


All Twisted Up

by Salvio_Hexia



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Brief Descriptions of Past Abuse, Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Genderqueer Character, Hair-pulling, Long-Haired Credence, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Other, Porn with Feelings, Self-Acceptance, Sex Positive, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome, Yoga, Yoga Pants are Basically a Mating Display
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-24 12:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 175,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salvio_Hexia/pseuds/Salvio_Hexia
Summary: It all started because Credence couldn’t keep his eyes to himself.He was idly lurking in the upstairs gym hallway as he cooled down from his run, waiting for Tina and Queenie to finish with kickboxing, when he drifted past the foggy glass wall separating the yoga studio from the rest of the floor and caught sight of the class in session. Well, more accurately, caught sight of the instructor. The man was wearing soft-looking peacock blue yoga pants that were currently molding themselves indecently to the muscular curve of his ass as he bent himself into a perfect forward fold. He was very flexible, and there were freckles in the small of his back where his shirt was falling up.Credence nearly dropped his towel.-In which Newt is very bendy, Credence has a really dirty imagination, and Graves is suuuper into helping him find his confidence. Also, there are feelings, and lots of letting go of the pain of the past. And then sex.





	1. Forward Fold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimer - I own none of the characters from the Fantastic Beasts franchise. This is for fun and the enjoyment of fellow fans; I'm not making any profit :)

Credence had never planned to join a yoga class. He didn’t even have any interest in yoga to begin with, much less being trapped in a tight space with thirty other people. _Strangers_. Not his favorite thing. But somehow, it happened anyway, with a sense of sweet inevitability.

It all started because he was bored, and poking around where he shouldn’t. He was at the gym, lurking in the upstairs hallway near the supply closet as he cooled down from his run, avoiding any more small talk with the two chatty women who had been next to him on the treadmills and waiting for Tina and Queenie to finish with kickboxing, when he idly drifted past the foggy glass wall separating the yoga studio from the rest of the floor and caught sight of the class in session. Well, more accurately, caught sight of the instructor. The man was wearing soft-looking peacock blue yoga pants that were currently molding themselves indecently to the muscular curve of his ass as he bent himself into a perfect forward fold. He was very flexible, and there were freckles in the small of his back where his shirt was falling up.

Credence nearly dropped his towel.

He was grateful that nobody on the upstairs exercise machines appeared to be looking in his direction as he drifted automatically closer, fascinated. It looked like most of the class was doing fairly well at mimicking the teacher’s pose, but nobody was as graceful as the man himself. His arms were lean and strong, and his form didn’t shake at all as he planted his palms on the mat and moved his feet back to hover smoothly in one long, flat plank, his biceps bunching and the smooth pale skin of his throat just barely gleaming with sweat. And then he dipped his body down further, still holding himself up with his arms (there were freckles, Credence noticed, all over those long arms, especially his shoulders) and then his head was rising again, his spine arched backward in an elegant curve as his arms stretched out and his neck grew long, his eyes looking up toward ceiling. The man had a soft smile on his face, a genuine expression of pure delight that made Credence feel something fluttery and delicate in his stomach. He was young, probably just a few years older than Credence, with laugh lines just beginning to etch themselves around his mouth, and his hair was a tousled mop of reddish curls.

He was possibly the most beautiful thing Credence had ever seen. 

Credence’s spellbound eyes slowly took in the delicate dip between his collar bones, the tight planes of his chest under the gaping collar of his loose tank top, the curve of his jaw, the gentle stretch of his smiling lips, the… Oh, no. The man had turned his head minutely, waiting for the rest of the class to copy his movement, and now he appeared to have noticed Credence. His eyelashes were very long, and his cheeks were slightly flushed from being upside down, and Credence abruptly realized he was just standing there staring, one hand leaving a sweaty palm-print on the glass, his mouth hanging slightly open. 

His heart jolted as if he had been stung by something sharp, and he scurried immediately out of the hallway and down the stairs, his pulse pounding, trying to convince himself the man hadn’t actually seen him gaping like an idiot. The main floor of the gym was cooler and less stuffy than upstairs, and Credence sucked in deep breaths of air as he passed between the rows of equipment. It was coincidence; the man had glanced over, but he was probably looking at something else. Credence shook his head slightly, the lingering image skittering helplessly through his mind of the man’s elegant long-fingered hands pressed against the mat and the lean muscles bunching in his arms, the beautiful open joy on his face. The memory filled him with a vague sort of hunger, along with a sharp feeling of panic.

Come on, Credence. No reason to be so jumpy. Not anymore. You didn’t do anything wrong.

Then Tina was calling his name from over by the changing rooms, and it was time to go home.

Credence could feel himself acting distant during the car ride back the apartment, his mind off swirling through indistinct thoughts of freckles and happiness and forbidden things and long, bendy legs while he half-listened to Queenie tease Tina about some woman in their kickboxing class. By the time she was laying dessert on the table, his cousin seemed to have noticed something was off. 

“Credence, honey, you’ve been quiet all through dinner. Is everything okay?”

To his horror, he found himself blushing heatedly, which unfortunately gained him Queenie’s immediate full attention.

“Oh my! Credence, what have you been thinking about?” She asked delightedly. “Is it a good thing? Can you tell us that much?”

Tina was watching him carefully from across the table, curiosity and hope rising in her dark eyes. He knew how acutely they both worried about him, and how much they wanted him to be happy living here.

“Yes,” he said quietly, still slightly mortified, pinned by their expectant stares. “It is a good thing.” They both beamed at him, and Credence was filled with an unfamiliar floaty tingling, half pleasant and half disorienting. 

To be honest, he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. If the yoga instructor had seen him staring, that was a bit embarrassing. But, he reminded himself determinedly, he hadn’t done anything wrong either. So what if he had been caught looking? For all anyone knew, he had just been thinking about trying the class. And even if his interest wasn’t strictly… professional, there was there was no sin in looking at that man, no sin in wanting him.

No sin at all. He had freed himself of that rhetoric when he’d stopped living under Ma’s roof. There was nothing wrong with being attracted to men, or with looking out for his own happiness. Tina had certainly told him that enough times that it ought to have sunk in by now. 

“More strudel, honey?” Queenie beamed as Credence blinked up at her, the soft approval in her eyes making it seem almost as if she had heard his internal pep talk. 

He found himself opening his mouth. But instead of responding to her question, an entirely different sentence somehow tumbled half-involuntarily off the tip of his tongue and landed in the quiet of the dining room.

“I’m thinking of trying the yoga class.”

Tina looked up in surprise. “Really? The evening one? That could work, I think it ends around the same time as kickboxing.” She was chewing slowly, brow slightly furrowed in thought. “Maybe you can mix it up with your runs. It could be um… what do you call it?”

“Cross-training,” put in Queenie. “I think it’s a great idea.” She nodded at Credence. “My friend Tori swears by yoga, and she’s a runner like you. She’s in that class, and she says the instructor really knows his stuff. Gave her some specific stretches to help loosen her leg muscles and prevent injuries, or something. He studied massage and physical therapy for a while, so he really knows his anatomy.” Credence could never really tell with Queenie, but that might have been a hint of well-hidden innuendo. He tried not to blush at the sudden mental picture of the gorgeous yoga teacher calmly helping him stretch after a run, his elegant hands wrapped around Credence’s legs as he pressed him down onto the mat.

Tina made a noise of comprehension. “Oh, is that the guy she was going on about a few weeks ago at your birthday thing? The one who helped her with her tight hamstrings? She kept gushing about his tattoo and his freckles, and I lost track of where she was going with her story,” Tina said dryly.

“Yeah,” Queenie said carefully, “apparently she thought he was a real picture.” Credence studiously did not meet her eyes, focusing on finishing his strudel, blocking out the part of him that was internally screaming. He had a _tattoo_. Ma would have hated him. The thought made him impossibly more attractive.

Oblivious, Tina went on. “Well, Tori’s crush aside, they wouldn’t have him teaching at the gym if he weren’t an expert. I suppose you will be in good hands, sweetie.” Credence swallowed. He would very much like to be in those hands, actually, even though the thought of it simultaneously thrilled and terrified him. “Why don’t you try the class out for a week and see what you think? And then whatever you decide after that will be fine.” There was a slight crease of concern in Tina’s brow, her eyes intent on his face. “I think it is wonderful that you want to learn something new,” she added quietly, “but if you don’t end up feeling comfortable in there, you can always leave. It’s… it’s going to be full of people, and the air can get awfully stuffy upstairs.”

Credence could hear what she was really saying. Remember. You’re free now; you don’t have to be trapped anywhere you don’t want to be. If you feel like you are being crushed in on all sides again, you find a way out, just like we practiced.

She briefly nudged his arm with the side of her hand. “I’m proud that you are branching out.” A grin was twitching in the corner of her mouth, which Credence shyly returned.

“I agree!” chirped Queenie. “Creedy’s gonna be as bendy as a straw soon! Our own little yogi! Ooh, and we gotta get you some of those fancy yoga pants that all the soccer moms wear to the café to get their coffee. I guess they’re so comfortable that they don’t wanna take ‘em off after they leave the gym.” 

Tina huffed. “I think it has more to do with showing off their legs, Queenie. And other things. Have you not noticed how tight those pants are?”

Queenie waved her hand. “Well, sure, but they’ve also gotta be pretty comfy. And Creedy isn’t gonna be wearing them around town, just in the yoga studio where everybody else is wearing them too.” She turned to him eagerly. “It’s up to you, of course, honey, but I’d be happy to take you shopping after work tomorrow if you don’t mind skipping your run. My treat. It can be an early birthday present.”

Credence was helplessly reminded of the yoga instructor’s long muscular legs encased in soft blue fabric, the material pulled taut over the firm curve of his ass. Somewhat awkwardly, he nodded. He didn’t think he would look half as good in them as the teacher had, but it would be nice to have something to wear other than the loose shorts he wore to run in, which would probably slide embarrassingly up his thighs during some of the poses. “Thank you, Queenie. I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem, sweetie.” She kissed him on the cheek as she rose to collect their dishes from the table, and Credence suppressed the automatic urge to take over the task for her and go wash them. It had taken many iterations of ‘we all take turns with the chores, Credence, you don’t have to do housework every night’ to ease the instinctive panic he felt any time he let someone else work while he relaxed. But Ma was no longer here to punish him for being lazy.

“What’s Jacob been baking this week?” asked Tina as the soft rushing noise of water filling the sink issued out of the kitchen, followed by quiet clinking. “Another crazy new pastry in the shape of a… I don’t know… a flying horse?”

Credence grinned. “No flying horses yet. But I’ll tell him your suggestion and he might make them next.”

His boss had a tendency to design his baked creations in the shape of animals, and lately fantastical creatures, which was part of what made working for him so enjoyable. He had even started including Credence in the brainstorming process, always interested to know his take on a new idea. In fact, Jacob had been one of the first people who really seemed to put stock in Credence’s opinion, and consequently was one of the only strangers in his whole life who had crossed the difficult and elusive boundary into being his friend. 

Queenie and Tina didn’t really count, since they were family, even though his Ma had tried her best to make sure they saw as little of each other as possible after her big fall-out with Aunt Beth. They’d been mostly estranged for over a decade, living on opposite sides of Washington State, and yet his cousins had still opened their home to him when he had nowhere else to go, in the disorienting fog following Ma’s arrest. 

He knew deep down they would’ve offered him their help even if he weren’t adoptive flesh and blood, even if he was just a lost outsider. It was just who Tina and Queenie were. He’d been a broken soul with nowhere to go and no high school diploma, despite the fact he was old enough to be out of college. No prospects for work, no job experience outside of helping Ma with her sermons and handing out her pamphlets on the street, no savings of his own, and far too old to go into foster care with Chastity and Modesty. If his cousins hadn’t taken him in, Credence didn’t know what would’ve become of him. At that point he’d been far too angry and afraid to build enough momentum to find a job or follow the social worker’s emphatic advice that he enroll in a GED program. He’d been locked up inside himself.

But Tina and Queenie had taken a moody, erratic young man into their home and shown him all the familial affection he’d been lacking until that point. And somehow, the burdens of the past had eventually gotten lighter and he had approached something that looked quite a bit like happiness. He had his GED now, his job at the bakery, regular visits with his little sisters over in Bellevue, and his online classes through the community college to get him started toward a degree. Not that he had any idea yet what he wanted to study. Ma would have said the only education he needed was in the bible.

Tina squeezed his shoulder as she got up from the table, heading in the direction of her tiny office, which she slept in at night. “Alright, you keep me posted on those flying horse pastries. It’s good Queenie convinced me to do this kickboxing class, otherwise all of those chili chocolate dragons I’ve been eating would mean buying pants a size up. Those things are ridiculously good.”

Credence grinned. It had been his idea to spice up the chocolate pastries with cayenne pepper to fit the theme of fire. The effect was quite nice - spicy and rich and sweet all at once. Jacob had clapped him on the shoulder after the first bite and said, ‘You’re a genius, kid! Got the instinct. That’s a real talent right there.’ The next day the pastries had become a bestseller and Jacob had given him a raise.

Credence could at least be proud of that. The pastries brought people happiness, and his paycheck meant that he was contributing to the household, making the strain of fitting him into Tina and Queenie’s postage-stamp-sized Seattle apartment less stark. He could cover the cost of his own clothes, which he mostly got at the thrift store, and chip in for the groceries and the rent, although he strongly suspected that his cousins were charging him far less than a third of the total. And his online classes were mostly covered by a need-based financial aid scholarship, which he had qualified for by virtue of having nearly nothing to his name at the time he applied.

Stretching slowly, Credence got up from the dining room table and headed to the couch, which folded out each night to become his bed. He booted up his laptop and dutifully got started on a paper for his English class, in which he was comparing different literary examples of magical worlds and the social issues the authors may have been commenting on metaphorically through the role and operation of magic in their work. It was actually quite fascinating, and Credence quickly fell deep into his essay, losing himself happily in the politics of Oz and the biblical overtones of Narnia.

When he next looked up from his computer, Tina’s office was dark and the kitchen was quiet and he realized he needed to get to bed so that he wouldn’t be dragging at the bakery tomorrow. His eyes felt slightly gritty from staring at his computer but his essay was mostly complete.

Feeling satisfied, he quickly did his nighttime routine, brushing his teeth, rubbing lotion on his face and throwing on some soft sweatpants to sleep in, and then folding out the couch bed. As he curled up under the blankets, the panic he had felt earlier had dulled and in its place was only excitement. He would try yoga, and get to stare at that beautiful man for an hour three times a week. And maybe something about being near him would bring Credence the same joy that the man seemed to have found, maybe after a few weeks Credence would be the one smiling so peacefully, doing the poses with grace and strength. And maybe the man would notice.

Credence buried his face in his pillow, embarrassed at his fantasy but pleased all the same. He knew none of this was likely. He probably would look like a wobbly mess in the class, nothing like the elegant perfection of the teacher. 

But he could hide in the back where nobody else would be watching him. It would be fine.

His fantasy returned, and Credence allowed himself to imagine what might happen if he already was an expert at yoga, catching the eye of the teacher with his confident skill. And then maybe the teacher would come around and correct everyone’s form, and he would slide his hands up Credence’s hips and help him press further into downward dog, bending over his back to murmur, ‘great job, you are doing so well.’ And maybe after class he would offer to massage Credence’s legs, and stretch his tight hamstrings, his lean arms flexing intimately while their bodies pressed close together, and Credence might get to see what color his eyes were underneath those long lashes.

Surreptitiously, one hand snuck out from under the blankets to grab a tissue from the box on the table next to the couch, before the fantasy continued. The man might have Credence lay flat on his back while he loomed overhead, pressing his legs into a stretch, one of Credence’s ankles over his freckled, strong shoulder as he bent forward and effortlessly folded Credence in half like a taco. And then, with their bodies so close, what if Credence reached out and touched his chest, felt his heart beating through his thin tank top, ran his fingers over hot skin and firm muscle, up to the delicate dip between his collar bones and along his pale throat to his beautiful face, cheeks slightly pink and his soft lips in a genuine smile. He imagined the man looking down at him, smiling, the full force of his joy centered only on Credence, his lovely eyes focused on his face.

Credence was touching himself furtively under the blankets, his soft gasps stifled into the pillow. The man might kiss him then, tenderly, while letting Credence’s leg slip off his shoulder to wrap around his hips instead. And he would whisper sweet things, murmuring how he found Credence beautiful and how much he had wanted to touch him ever since he saw him in class, while his long-fingered hands ran through Credence’s hair, caressing his face. And their bodies would be pressed together so intimately and their chests so close that Credence would feel the man’s heartbeat, could feel the expansion of his lungs, the vibration of his voice. And then Credence would gasp as the man began to rock his hips, rubbing them together through the material of their pants where he was so sensitive and aching, the man bending to kiss him again, to whisper right up against his lips, ‘That’s it, baby. You feel so good.’ And Credence would arch into him luxuriously, sliding both hands down his slender back to squeeze that spectacular ass while the man’s wet mouth sucked at his neck, their hips smoothly thrusting together and Credence letting out increasingly desperate moans, held safe and secure in the man’s strong arms.

The real Credence was silent as he came, mouth open in a soundless moan, catching his mess in the crumpled tissue while he slowly jacked himself through the aftershocks, his heart thundering in his chest and his breath coming in quiet pants. As his heart rate slowed back to normal, Credence blinked in shock at his own daring. He had been so caught up in his fantasy! But his cousins were right down the hall, and what if they heard–

But, no, he knew he had been quiet. And the heavy, wrung-out euphoria after orgasm was making it hard for him to regret it as he crept to the bathroom and carefully wrapped the soiled tissue in another fresh one and tucked it far down into the trash can, easing the water on silently so that he could wash his hands. He padded back to the bed and slid under the covers, his body feeling pleasantly loose. 

He had never dared touch himself under his Ma’s roof, and his sexual experiences for a long time had been pitifully limited to desperate fumbles alone in the bathroom at the community center, when his hormones were driving him crazy and Ma was out there giving another sermon to the uninterested crowd on the many sins of today’s society. His climax had always felt like something terrible back then, an act of betrayal, the ultimate treason of the flesh, even months after he was out from under Ma’s thumb and freed from listening to her voice condemning the sins of lust every morning at breakfast. It was only after Tina had started taking him to see a therapist and his eyes had been opened to several different ways of thinking that he had dared to try it again. Maybe it wasn’t a sin after all. And, good lord, had that been a memorable experience. Without the self-hatred and fear in the way, his orgasm had thundered through him like a freight train and left him trembling for what felt like hours on the floor of the Goldsteins’ tiny bathroom, until he had finally heard the sound of the elevator door signal their return from the store and had rushed to compose himself.

His body sank a little deeper into the couch mattress in warm embarrassed pleasure as he remembered the flurry of self-exploration that had followed that discovery, and the absolute paradigm shift that had come with the gift of his very own laptop and access to the vast mire of the internet. There had been so much coarseness and mortifyingly delicious obscenity, and he had devoured it with wide, shocked eyes and a heart that felt as if it would beat right out of his chest. He hadn’t had the courage to tell Juliet, his therapist, about anything specific, but she seemed to glean the meaning of his awkward, fumblingly vague questions. No, it wasn’t wrong to be interested in sex. It was healthy to be curious, and good to discover what he liked, to think about what he would want when the time came and he found someone he felt safe trying it with. And no, it wasn’t a sin if that person was a man. His salvation felt like it was handed to him right there in Juliet Kowalski’s kind brown eyes as she calmly told him that there was nothing wrong with men like him, who wanted other men. Nothing wrong at all.

When she had helped him come out to Tina and Queenie, they had been so supportive it almost hurt. There had been a painful pinch of regret boiling in his chest, a wish that he’d been living with them all along, that he’d never had to listen to Ma spew hate speech about homosexuals over the dinner table and shout bible quotes at men holding hands on the street. 

But he couldn’t change the past. He could only move forward with the future and cut the ghost of Ma’s prejudice loose from his soul.

He was drifting off to sleep now, warm and safe. He was going to buy those yoga pants tomorrow, maybe in some bright color that Ma would hate. And he would wear his hair long, no matter that she’d call it too effeminate, and he would bake delicious pastries that brought people happiness, no matter that she condemned gluttony, and he would study whatever he wanted in college and join the yoga class and have as many sinful thoughts about the teacher as he liked. And there was nothing she could do to stop him. He smiled softly, and then he was well and truly asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Fic-writing is still new to me, but if that made you happy at all, I'm on the right track. Feedback and constructive pointers are welcome :)


	2. Downward Facing Dog

Despite his unstoppable feeling of confidence two evenings before, Credence was now incredibly nervous. 

Yesterday he and Queenie had found him a yoga mat and two pairs of soft grey athletic pants that were just loose enough not to make him feel exposed, but tight enough around the calves so they wouldn’t slide up. The store they had gone to hadn’t had a very big selection, so he hadn’t been able to find any that were a bright color after all, but he had somehow ended up wearing one of Tina’s old oversized high school shirts to the gym today, which declared him a member of ‘Ilvermorny Girls Varsity Soccer’ in faded pink letters across his chest. That seemed a fitting enough insult to his mother’s insistence on squashing his freedom of expression into a box.

Credence’s hair was getting long enough now that Queenie had convinced him to let her pull it back into a soft messy bun at the back of his head this morning, and he anticipated being glad to have the weight of it off his neck when he started sweating. Right now, however, he missed the curtain of his hair and the opportunity it afforded him to hide his face. He was just so _nervous_.

He was lurking in the hallway again, watching the yoga studio fill up and trying not to stare at the teacher as he greeted each student coming in with a small smile and a nod, his long legs folded on the mat. His pants were a deeper shade of blue today and his tank top was a dark maroon that made his skin look luminous, a stylized gold graphic of some sort of platypus on the front. Could he be Australian? Oh, gosh, that would mean he had an _accent_.

Heart beating faster, Credence realized that if he didn’t get in there soon he was going to be arriving late, and there was still enough of him that cringed away from tardiness of any kind that it spurred him into motion. Hesitantly, he crept out of the hallway and around to the entrance of the room, swallowing around the dryness in his throat as he took in the neat rows of mats where the other students were already stretching, looking as if they knew exactly what they were doing. He stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, acid swirling in his stomach at the thought of looking like a fool in the midst of all of them. 

Suddenly, there was a smooth voice from over his shoulder. 

“Having second thoughts?” 

Credence whirled, panicked, to see an incredibly handsome man standing behind him, his dark eyebrows raised and a wry smile on his lips. “Hey, I don’t blame you. I’m not so eager to go in there myself. I’m only here because I lost a bet with my boss.” He rolled his eyes, and Credence could see that underneath the confidence of the man’s words, he did seem a bit uncomfortable. There was a hint of stiffness to the set of his shoulders that belied the effortless grace of his casual posture, his hands in the pockets of his sleek black yoga pants. “She says I’m too tense,” he added with a huff.

Credence’s surprise at his sudden appearance was wearing off now, and he found himself unable to resist spilling his worries to the closest thing he had to a sympathetic ear at the moment. “I’ve never done yoga before. I’m afraid I will be terrible at it. I’m not very flexible,” he blurted, a blush creeping up his neck at the admission.

But the man was nodding. “Yep. Me neither. Not flexible at all. It’s been years since I’ve tried this sort of thing. Roommate dragged me to a class once in college,” he explained easily.

“But you’ve done it before,” Credence clarified, feeling inexplicably disappointed that the two of them were not complete beginners together.

“Believe me, kid, I don’t remember a damn thing from that class. I’m probably still going to look like an idiot. In fact, I’m guessing that’s what my boss wanted. She lives to humiliate me,” he added dryly. Credence gave him a careful once-over. The man was probably in his late thirties, an inch or two shorter than Credence but built broad and muscular where Credence was still thin and lanky, with dark hair swept neatly back into a professional cut and a slight bit of grey at the temples. He supposed he could let the use of ‘kid’ slide, although it brought back unpleasant memories of passersby shouting angrily, ‘hey, kid, take your pamphlets and get out of here, you freak!’

Making a quick decision, his heart pounding, he held out his hand. “I’m Credence. We can look like idiots together. I was going to hide in the back row, what do you think?”

To his delight, that earned him a slow, genuine grin. The man’s hand was warm and smooth, his grip firm, and he didn’t ask about the rough uneven stripes of skin on Credence’s palm. “I’m Percival. But I mostly just go by Graves,” he said in his deep, silky voice. “It’s my last name. Just easier to say,” he explained as he nodded toward the door. “I like your back row plan, Credence. Why don’t you pick a spot and I’ll make sure I stick next to you.”

“Okay,” Credence breathed, a warmth suffusing his chest as he turned and slipped through the door with new confidence in his step, his pulse still pounding with nerves but his heart feeling oddly like it was floating. Perhaps it was just because Graves was so handsome, and Credence was so relieved to have an ally, but hearing him say ‘I’ll stick next to you’ made Credence feel just as breathless as his glimpse of the yoga teacher mid-class on Wednesday night. Good grief, was his interest that changeable? Credence adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder and then dared a glance at the instructor sitting at the front of the class to see if meeting Graves had made him any less attracted to the man.

Nope. 

Still incredibly hot. Credence shot his eyes down to the floor, cheeks burning, as the teacher gave him a gentle smile, his lovely eyes watching Credence traipse awkwardly to the back row and quickly duck down to smooth his mat out on the floor. The man was breathtaking, his legs now spread out to either side while he leaned forward in a deep stretch that Credence didn’t think he’d be able to manage even with weeks of practice. Wow, that was a lot of hip flexibility. He found his eyes drawn to the delicate arches of the man’s feet, the point of his chin where it was resting on one palm, the elbow of his freckled arm propped on the mat. He was so relaxed into the pose that it made him look like a lounging cat, watching them all with curious eyes from his comfortable open fold on the floor.

“Holy shit,” whispered Graves near-silently from Credence’s left, his mat now rolled out and his eyes also watching their instructor. He turned to Credence with a playful grin as he began to stretch his own legs. “So that’s why this class is so popular,” he murmured lowly, for Credence’s ears only. “At least we get to watch _him_ while we make fools of ourselves back here.”

Credence looked at him in surprise, a delighted smile spreading irresistibly across his face. He hadn’t even considered the fact that Graves might like men, too. Perhaps it ought to have made him feel jealous that he wasn’t the only one appreciating their teacher’s beauty, but it sent a thrill through him larger than just simple excitement to be able to say easily, “My thoughts exactly,” his words prompting an answering sparkle in Graves’ eyes and a mischievous quirk of his eyebrows. And not even so much as a flutter of surprise or disapproval.

This was what it felt like, Credence thought, to be fully himself around complete strangers and be accepted for it. It was a keener pleasure than he had ever imagined, and the novelty of it warmed him to his very core. Buoyed up, he gamely turned his eyes to the front and prepared to do his best during their lesson, not even ducking away when the teacher met his eyes again, this time doing his best to return the man’s soft smile. God, he was beautiful. 

And then Credence had to concentrate, because yoga was _hard_. Half an hour in, that was the most important thing Credence had learned. It was incredibly difficult. There was so much balance involved even in the simplest poses, and Credence was apparently very bad at balancing, his form wobbling all over the place just like he feared. There had come a point where they were all doing a tree pose on one foot and Credence had come close to toppling over completely, letting out a soft squeak of dismay as his center of gravity shifted sideways, only for Graves to somehow catch hold of his flailing elbow and steady him.

“Easy there,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth quirked in a grin.

“Thanks,” Credence whispered, flushing, his balance restored and a feeling of heat blossoming in his chest. The stretch in his legs was actually quite nice, even though he couldn’t quite get his foot tucked all the way up into his inner thigh like Newt showed them so effortlessly.

Oh, yes. The second most important thing he had learned in the past half hour was that their teacher’s name was Newt (yes, like a lizard) and he was British, not Australian. His accent had been sending subtle shivers down Credence’s spine ever since he first introduced himself and got them started on their first warm-up pose, the exotic sound of his vowels and the unusual cadence of his lyrical baritone slipping right into the pleasure center of Credence’s brain. Oh, he would definitely be daydreaming about that voice later.

Newt was also, he learned, a bit of an oddball. He tended to babble in between poses while he waited for everyone to sink fully into the position, mostly about animals, or research he had read recently, or other random things he found interesting. But it wasn’t off-putting. Instead, his warm and hypnotic voice felt like it was soothing Credence into a trance as it drifted from topic to topic, explaining which muscles they ought to feel working together in a given pose, and how they ought to be deepening and slowing their breathing. And then he’d go off on a tangent about turtles that hibernate the entire winter in ponds under ice while their breathing and metabolism slows down and they are able to take in oxygen from the water by absorbing it into their blood vessels through areas of skin with high vascular density where the blood is close under the surface. Like their butts. Yep, butt breathing. Well, cloacal respiration, according to Newt.

At this point, Credence had shot an amused glance at Graves, who was looking a bit incredulous. Then they shifted into a new pose, and Newt was off again, talking them through letting go of the tension in their bodies bit by bit as they leaned toward the floor, letting gravity help them stretch in a forward fold as their fingers brushed the mat and their heads hung loose. Funny thing about heads, he explained eagerly, some shrews’ entire heads, including the skulls, shrunk significantly during the wintertime along with their overall body mass. An extraordinary adaptation, Newt enthused, that might be helping them survive the winter with lower caloric needs.

Credence soon became used to the random facts that Newt seemed unable to resist interspersing with his more relevant instructions. By the time the class was half over he was actually listening with interest, his nervousness completely forgotten and the soothing murmur of Newt’s voice giving him an anchor to focus on as his body slowly adjusted to the new experience of being flexed and draped and held and stretched in a whole new set of ways. He was distantly surprised to find that he felt rather calm, actually, the polar opposite of how he’d felt out in the hallway. Sure, his arms shook a bit as he tried his first downward dog, but the prolonged deep breathing they were doing helped him gain a bit of stability the next time. Credence’s legs were strong from running, so he had no trouble with holding the lunge for each of the warrior poses, though his thighs did start to burn by the end. He only wobbled a bit when he tried to twist his torso down into triangle pose from there, his balance thrown off by his now-sideways view of the room and his arm overhead tipping him slightly too far. But he caught himself with a hand on the floor, kept his focus, and slowly resumed the position again with more care.

He was actually doing it. 

There was a trickle of wonder at the back of his mind, a small part of him marveling quietly that thus far this had gone so much better than he had realistically hoped. He was quite sure it had been the right choice to stay at the back today, though he had noted somewhat smugly that there were plenty of others in the rows ahead of him who seemed like they were still struggling with the same things that he was. Perhaps he had no reason to be so concerned, if they weren’t trying to hide it. The spots at the very front seemed to all be filled by people who knew what they were doing, a number of women and a few men who easily worked their way through the routine of the class without any noticeable stumbles. They all seemed to know Newt, too, exchanging fond glances as he rambled off and on about dinosaurs with feathers and keeping your core muscles tight during plank pose to make sure your back didn’t sag. 

As he relaxed even more the further they got into the class, Credence let himself take in more details around him. On the mat furthest to the right in the front row, he thought he recognized Tori, her glossy black curls tied up in a colorful scarf. He had only met her once at Queenie’s birthday dinner a few months ago, so he wasn’t sure he ought to try and signal any sort of hello. In any case, her entire focus seemed to be on Newt, as was everyone else’s in the room. Why wouldn’t it be? Newt was currently demonstrating a standing back bend, his long body one graceful line with his arms straight above his head, spine curving effortlessly back and making his shirt ride up just enough to show a glimpse of his pale abdomen, lean and tight with muscle. And then he brought his arms back down, and his smile was just as breathtaking as ever.

Oh, God. What if everyone in this class had a crush on him? Credence certainly couldn’t blame them, but that would surely mean that Newt would never glance twice in his direction. If the man wanted to date someone, there were plenty of attractive people in the class; Tori was stunning, all big dark eyes and long shapely legs with smooth cocoa skin, and she clearly thought Newt was amazing. If Newt liked women… it was hard not to picture him asking her out.

Credence sighed quietly as the lesson drew toward the end, trying to let go of his disappointment, letting Newt’s soothing voice wash over him as he directed them all to lie on their backs for several minutes, simply resting and breathing. Credence had to tug his hair loose from his bun to rest his head comfortably on the floor, but after that he felt like he was sinking delightfully into the mat, a meditative calm welling up inside him while his body hummed with tranquility, feeling pleasantly wrung out. Almost like after a good orgasm. 

Huh. He was too blissed out to even blush at that thought.

It was like surfacing slowly from a warm bath when Newt quietly spoke again, inviting them to take their time getting up, whenever they were ready, and to have a good weekend. Credence dazedly rose from his relaxed sprawl on the floor, his hair falling around his shoulders as he wondered bewilderedly where the hour had gone. Was that really it? He already wanted more.

He turned eagerly to Graves, only to see that the man was still on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a look of open surprise on his face. It made him look very young. “That was… not half bad,” he confessed to Credence, his breath still coming in a deep, even rhythm. “Maybe Sera really did know what she was talking about. Not that I am ever going to admit it to her.” He was grinning at Credence conspiratorially, his face still relaxed and open, one arm thrown over his forehead and his hair slightly mussed out of its tidy style. His brown eyes were very warm, and Credence was unexpectedly fascinated by the delicate blue veins on the underside of his wrist, the vulnerable crease of his inner elbow, and the dark hair peeking out of the underarm of his shirt. Those things might not normally be sexy, but on Graves right now they seemed exquisite and intimate, a glimpse of him that nobody else was getting to see, a peek behind the tightly controlled businessman persona that Credence was guessing he wore most of the time.

Tentative and delighted, Credence scooted closer. “I thought it was really nice. I mean, I obviously need to work on my balance, but it felt… really good after a while, holding those poses and… visualizing the muscles and everything. I could almost feel them getting stronger.” The rest of the students were slowly rising and taking their leave now, and Newt was already surrounded by several of the people who had been in the front row who all seemed eager to chat with him.

“So you’ll be back on Monday, then?” asked Graves as he heaved himself up from the floor, running a hand through his dark hair to push it back out of his face. He looked endearingly hopeful.

“Yes, definitely,” Credence said firmly, a glowing grin fighting to spread across his face. “What about you?”

They drifted toward the door, pulling on their shoes and scooping up their things as they went. “Yeah,” replied Graves, a soft look on his face as he gazed at Credence. “I think I will. Can’t leave you to hold the back row all by your lonesome, now can I?” The soft look had become slightly teasing, the mischievous twinkle back in his dark eyes, and Credence felt as if he were levitating several inches off the ground.

“No, you definitely can’t. I rely on you to prop me up if I’m about to fall over,” Credence joked, astonished at how easy it was to talk to Graves this way. There was something about him, something… so reassuringly honest and straightforward, and Credence didn’t feel half as nervous as he usually did talking to a near-stranger. “And besides, don’t you want to show your boss just how zen you can be? She won’t get any satisfaction out of the bet if you become phenomenal at yoga instead of suffering through it, right? You’ll be so at peace, she might even miss you being uptight.”

To Credence’s profound joy, Graves threw his head back and laughed at that, the sound rich and pure, smile lines standing out around his eyes. Credence couldn’t seem to look away from his face - the whiteness of his teeth, the dark smudge of his eyelashes and the tiny hint of stubble on his jaw. “I like the way you think, Credence,” Graves said, laughter still in his voice, as they continued toward the exit. “She would never expect me to willingly commit myself to something like this. I’m too much of a workaholic to take the time to relax.”

Credence grinned shyly. They were slipping out into the main area of the upper floor now, passing Newt by the door, and he turned away from his conversation partners to raise a hand toward them in farewell. “Thank you for coming! I’m always glad to see new students!” he called after them, smiling. He looked like he might have wanted to say more, but one of the women next to him pulled him back into their conversation. Still, his eyes flicked back toward the two of them one last time through the foggy glass wall as Credence followed Graves toward the stairs, tracking unmistakably over Graves’ broad-shouldered back, his trim waist and the curve of his ass in the black yoga pants.

Ah.

Credence swallowed. Right. Of course Newt would be more interested in Graves than in Credence. Who wouldn’t be? He was so charismatic and funny, whereas Credence was shy and awkward. Not to mention gorgeous; the man was classically handsome and solid with muscle, and he held himself with a confident elegance that made Credence want to bottle that up so he could have it himself. It was no wonder Newt wanted him, really. 

Oh. Now he was imagining Newt with a bottle of Graves’… essence, rubbing himself all over. Or maybe Newt would rather just rub himself against Graves. 

“Well, the next time she asks me how yoga is going I’m just going to give her one of Newt’s serene grins,” Graves said over his shoulder to Credence as they followed the dispersing crowd down the stairs. “That ought to weird her out. I’m talking full on peace and love, here. She’ll probably be really unnerved, especially because I don’t usually smile.”

Credence, who had just seen Graves’ beautiful smile several times in the last hour, wasn’t entirely sure of the validity of that statement, but he rallied himself, squashing down his faint pulse of jealousy at hearing the man say Newt’s name, and replied playfully, “Definitely. With a hint of smug satisfaction, as if this was your idea all along, and you just tricked her into thinking she was making you do it.”

Graves paused for a moment on the stairs, turning theatrically to look at him. “Goddamn it, you’re a genius,” he said, his lips twitching. “I think I need to hire you as my new image consultant, Credence. Reinvent my persona, freak the hell out of everyone at work.”

His casual swearing didn’t bother Credence, although it certainly would have two years ago. Those words had far less power over him than they used to. Still, he wasn’t sure how to respond to that statement, stymied by the implication that Graves valued his opinion enough to even joke about giving him a job. So he just grinned back shyly and nodded, his hair falling a bit into his face. They had reached the row of ellipticals at the bottom of the stairs where Credence usually waited for Queenie and Tina, so he regretfully slowed to a stop, Graves raising an eyebrow.

“I’m… waiting for some people in kickboxing. My ride home,” Credence explained, “they’ll be out in a minute.”

Graves let out a noise of comprehension. “And you’re saving the planet with carpooling too. Credence, you’re a wonder.” Credence let slip a surprised giggle at this, a mostly involuntary sound, but it seemed to enchant Graves who stared at him for a moment with something approaching hunger. “Well,” he went on lowly, “I look forward to Monday. Who knew I would be saying that, ever.”

Credence was oddly hypnotized by the way Graves moistened his lips with a dart of his tongue, how the shoulder strap of his lightweight gym bag pulled his dark grey shirt tight across his chest, and the unfathomable way his eyes seemed to get darker as they continued to watch Credence. “Me too,” he replied somewhat breathlessly. “I’ll save you a spot in the back row.” Shoot. That sounded hopelessly juvenile, like a nervous kid who was trying to befriend someone popular. Credence hurriedly added, “I… hope you have a nice weekend. Don’t work too hard.”

He was rewarded with another of Graves’ soft, warm smiles, a hint of amazement in the look on his face. “I’ll try not to,” he promised in a murmur, “since you asked. I’m lucky to have you looking out for me, Credence.”

And then Graves gave him a smooth nod, a hint of mischief once more appearing in his grin as he saluted him with his car keys and headed toward the door, leaving Credence biting his lip and trying not to stare too obviously at the pull of the athletic fabric over his body as he walked. He could certainly understand why a view like that would catch Newt’s eye. When Graves had disappeared around the corner leading to the exit, Credence slumped slightly against the nearest elliptical machine.

Well. One thing was for sure. He had plenty of reasons to make sure he looked his best for the next yoga class. 

Soon, he heard Queenie’s excited voice behind him, teasing Tina about something as usual. The two of them emerged from one of the downstairs studios and effortlessly scooped Credence between them on their way out the door, Queenie’s hand coming up to tuck a lock of dark hair behind his ear.

“How was it, Creedy?” she asked eagerly, her blonde curls coming loose from their short braids and frizzing slightly from the moisture on her skin. “Did you like it?”

Credence nodded, a helpless grin spreading across his face. She let out a squeak of excitement, able to read all the necessary answers in his face. “You had fun? Oh, good!” She linked her arm with his, uncaring of the drying sheen of sweat on both of them. “I had a feeling you would, sweetie.” She plucked at the hair elastic wrapped around his wrist. “Was the bun too tight?”

“Oh, no,” he rushed to reassure her, “it was perfect. I only took it out at the end when we were lying down and it was in the way. Will you do it again on Monday?” He knew it was a bit silly, since he could easily do it himself, but there was something so nice about the feeling of her fingers running over his scalp, smoothing his hair back with the brush. She probably did a tidier job than he did anyway.

“Of course, honey,” she said happily, the dimple deepening in her cheek with the force of her smile. Credence turned to Tina, who was unlocking the car, her dark eyes watching them both with fond amusement and a bit of some deeper emotion.

“Thanks for the shirt,” he said quietly, and then to his surprise she was suddenly hugging him tightly right there in the parking lot.

“It looks good on you,” Tina murmured. “The shirt, and the yoga. And everything. I’m so happy right now.” Queenie, giggling, wrapped her arms around both of them. Tina was usually far more reserved than her sister, so Credence could tell that this was something really important to her. “I’m proud of you, is what I mean. Not that you need me to tell you how far you’ve come.” Credence slowly smoothed a gentle hand down her back, her fervent whisper slightly muffled into his shoulder.

“Thanks, Tina,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Of course, Bambi,” Tina said, and he could hear the grin in her voice. Queenie had been eleven and going through a serious Disney phase when that nickname had started, establishing itself after one look at tiny newly-adopted Credence with his big doe eyes. She had wasted no time in declaring him their little baby deer, the prince of the forest, pulling him out into the woods of the park across the street to put flower crowns on his head while Tina, serious and responsible already at sixteen, ran interference between their mothers’ intermittent shouting from inside the house and soothed Credence’s frightened confusion at the loud voices. He had turned five that summer, and Tina had liked to scoop him up and carry him around on her shoulders while Queenie happily babbled out made-up stories about his adventures as a little deer in the forest. Now, of course, he was taller than both of his cousins, so the nickname had resurfaced more recently with plenty of nostalgic humor.

He could hear Queenie giggling behind him now, as the hug dispersed and they all slid into the car, Credence getting the front passenger seat by virtue of having the longest legs. “I nearly forgot about all those games we used to play in the park, Creedy. You were so little and cute!” she cooed, her hands sliding over the seat to tickle his neck while he snickered and squirmed. “You still are cute,” she added emphatically, pinching his cheek. “So adorable,” she said in a playful growl.

“Okay, okay,” laughed Credence, “thanks for that. I’m… flattered, I think.”

Tina snorted. “She means handsome. Or beautiful. Queenie just has trouble thinking of you as a grown up,” she said pointedly. “You know how she is, off in her little world of make believe. A bit of an airhead really.” They all knew this was the furthest from the truth. Queenie may be giddy and charming, but she was sharp as a tack.

Queenie made a mock-scandalized noise from the back seat. “Oh, really,” she said, dangerously sweet. “Well, if I am such an airhead, there is no way I could possibly have noticed you making eyes at that woman in the front row again, is there?” Credence watched in shock as Tina actually turned a ruddy pink. He’d heard Queenie teasing her about watching this woman before, but he thought it might have just been something Queenie was blowing out of proportion. Tina was so focused on family and her accounting work most of the time that Credence had never seen her really show interest in anyone, much less go on any dates. He had always supposed she just wasn’t interested in relationships, not that it was any of his business. He supposed becoming head of the family back at the tender age of twenty two and guardian of her teenage sister had heaped an unfair load of serious responsibility on her shoulders, which would have made it hard to find time to look for someone. Now, though, if this woman had really caught her interest, Tina more than deserved to find some happiness.

“Who is she?” he asked eagerly. “What is her name? Are you going to ask her out?”

“Oh, no, Credence not you too,” she groaned. “I don’t know. I don’t know any of those things. She’s just… very good at kickboxing. And interesting and beautiful. We wave hello to each other at the beginning of every class, just very politely, so really… she’s probably straight anyway,” she sighed.

“What?” Queenie squawked. “You came to that conclusion from the way she _waves_? Come on, Teenie. Even you know that’s ridiculous. You’re giving up too soon! You don’t have to ask her out right off the bat, but if you get to know her a little better and then feel out her interest she might surprise you.”

Tina let out a frustrated groan. “Or, with my luck, she might have an overprotective boyfriend that will want to punch me for hitting on her. Not that she couldn’t punch me herself. I just mean, the chances are high. She is so _pretty_.”

“Pfft.” Credence could see Queenie waving an airy hand in the rear-view mirror. “Being pretty does not equal being straight or being taken, you dumdum. Case in point, both of you are neither of those things.”

“Aw,” cooed Credence jokingly to Tina, “she thinks we’re pretty.”

“Yes, thank you Queenie,” said Tina dryly. “But I’m still going to move at my own pace.” They were a few blocks away from home now, the car cozy and warm as they slipped through the autumn twilight.

Queenie sighed. “I know. I’m not saying you shouldn’t. I just want to see you happy, and sometimes I want it so bad that I just… I want to shove her at you in class. I won’t though,” she added hurriedly when Tina’s expression turned mortified, “I swear. I’ll back off now. You know we’re always here to cheer you on if you need it, though.”

“I know, Queens.” Tina was turning the car into their parking garage now, the harsh lights jarring after the soft dark of the night outside. As they piled into the elevator, Credence nudged Tina gently.

“Can you tell me what she looks like? Only if you want.” Tina gave him a tiny smile, her head falling back against the wall of the elevator as they rose toward their floor.

“Well.” She bit her lip. “She’s got really silky blonde hair, and this gorgeous skin, like cinnamon, and she always smells good even after we’re done with our lesson. She has perfect form when she’s punching, and her legs are… really nice,” she said somewhat breathlessly. “She… always has a garment bag that she hangs in the changing rooms, like she just switched out of a really nice suit, so I think she must have some high powered job or something. One time, I saw her arrive wearing this really sharp pantsuit, and she looked like… the most attractive lawyer or politician or _person_ I’d ever seen. She was wearing this dark red lipstick, and all I wanted was to just–”

There was a ding as they reached their floor, and Tina immediately broke off, flushing, clearing her throat awkwardly. “I just thought she looked nice,” she mumbled, and then hurriedly pushed off down the hall.

Tina let them in to the apartment in a jingle of keys, mumbling about paperwork and avoiding any further questions by slinking into her office. Later, though, after Credence had finished dressing the salad and heating up the meatloaf he’d made the night previous, and they were all sitting down to eat, he whispered in her ear, “I think she sounds wonderful. Good luck.” When he looked back at her, she was smiling shyly at her plate, cheeks a rosy shade of pink. 

Queenie winked at him from across the table. “Well, for now we are all a bunch of single pringles, though we hope that will change. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun on Halloween! We should make plans, it’s only two weeks away!” she crowed. 

Tina seemed grateful that neither one of them was pushing for more, and she eagerly chimed in on the new topic. “I know Tori will be having a party at her place that you’ll want to go to, Queenie, but that won’t start until eight. First we could meet Credence after his shift and spend some time with the Kowalskis. What do you think? Jacob mentioned that Juliet and Zoey will be coming to the bakery when it closes before they head to the library for the maze and the haunted house. I’m sure she’d love to see you, Bambi. That little girl thinks you hung the moon. And Queenie hasn’t really met any of them yet, which is ridiculous considering you’ve been working there six months now!”

It was true. That was just how the schedule had worked out; Queenie was always working later than Credence or busy in her studio, so she was never the one to come pick him up from the bakery. Tina by now had grown very close with both Kowalski siblings, but Queenie hadn’t even met Jacob yet, and had only been introduced to Juliet in passing. 

“That’s right,” he said, “They would love to finally meet you, I’m sure.” Everybody loved meeting Queenie, it was just a fact.

“Okay,” Queenie said cheerfully, “I’ll make sure to wrap things up in my studio early, and then Tina and I can come to the bakery and join you! I do want to meet everyone, especially this Zoey I’ve heard so much about. And then afterward we can head to the more grown-up celebrations,” she giggled.

“Sounds good, Queens,” said Credence. “I’m sure it will be fun. I’m just a little worried I won’t know anyone at Tori’s party.” He barely knew any of Queenie’s work friends from the little coffee shop down the road. They were mostly artists like her, paying the bills though barista work. She liked to say that even though it was awfully cliché, she met a lot of interesting people.

“I hear you, honey, but she’s really nice, I promise. I’m sure all her guests will be too. But if you end up feeling uncomfortable, you and Teenie can take the car home and I’ll stay over. She and her sister share this huge house, with a pool in the back and everything. There are plenty of bedrooms, so I’m sure I can stay if needed. I think her sister spoils her a bit,” she said, batting her eyelashes at Tina.

“What’s that look? You want me to buy you a pool?” Tina asked flatly. “We have a bathtub. Good enough.”

Queenie giggled, poking Tina in the cheek. “So grouchy. No, I don’t want a pool. I just think it’s sweet that they live together like we do. She’s never introduced me to her sister because she’s always out at work when I go over there, but I can tell by the way she talks about her that they are real close. And that house is fantastic. Really, we gotta at least show up for a little while! Just wait until you see the garden – at night, it is like a fairy forest, done up with little twinkly lights.”

Tina sighed. “Okay, I’m in as long as Credence is too. At least the two of us can stick together when you inevitably abandon us to go mingle. Alright?” She nudged Credence with her foot under the table and he grinned at her. They were alike in a lot of ways, both of them slightly uncomfortable in large crowds of strangers. But the description of the house sounded wonderful, and Credence did want to see the costumes and pool and the beautiful garden. He nodded.

“Excellent!” crowed Queenie. “I’ve been working on your costumes already.” Tina and Credence shared an unsurprised look over her head as she rummaged in her purse. Last year she had asked them repeatedly for their costume preferences, but when it became clear that neither of them really minded leaving the creative decisions in her hands, she eagerly took over the planning completely. It seemed that this year she wasn’t going to bother with asking. “They’re right on schedule to be finished in time, just a couple more alterations, and then maybe some finishing touches… Aha!” She had found what she was looking for, apparently a long roll of measuring tape. “I know I still have your measurements from last year, Creedy, but I can’t figure out where I put them. Would you mind, after dinner?”

The rest of the evening passed in a flurry of happy planning followed by contented silence as they finished the food and Queenie urged Credence up from the table to wrap the measuring tape around him, making little notes in her sketchbook and then hurrying off to her room to do some drawing. Credence took care of the dishes while Tina slumped down on a chair in the living room to read a book, her eyelids looking heavier each time he glanced over.

By the time he was finished wiping down the counters and scrubbing out the sink, she was asleep in the chair, her neck at what looked like a very uncomfortable angle. Smiling softly, he coaxed a pillow behind her head and eased the book from her grasp, flipping it over and smoothing a fond hand over the familiar cover of The Hobbit. He loved the rich detail of the magic in Middle Earth, perhaps even more than Narnia, although he didn’t like to pick favorites. 

And that was an excellent reminder that he still needed to work on his essay. He settled in on the couch, and sank his mind slowly into the flow of his writing, the soft tapping of his keyboard the only sound in the quiet living room aside from the rain pattering against the window. After an hour and a half, Tina awoke from her doze and bid him goodnight, slipping down the hall to go to bed, and Credence saved his progress and carefully ejected his flashrive, allowing his mind to turn to other things.

It had been a good day. The kind of day that he would’ve never thought possible back when he was all knotted up inside and everything seemed so bleak. Juliet had stopped by to visit her brother at the bakery this morning on the way to taking six-year-old Zoey to school, and Credence had gotten to spend thirty minutes entertaining Zoey with the process of rolling out the dough in the back, her huge brown eyes adorably fascinated, while her mother and uncle talked at the counter up front. Jacob had laughed uproariously when they emerged from the kitchen later smeared with flour, Zoey’s arms comfortably locked around Credence’s neck as she begged her mom to let them stay longer. It had been a long time since his sister Modesty was so young and affectionate, and Credence’s heart had been melting, his willpower already wrapped around her tiny fingers. Then Juliet had hugged him, flour and all, and asked fervently if he’d consider coming over to babysit some time. For pay of course. 

Credence had been speechless. He would’ve jumped at the chance to spend time with Zoey for free, let alone earn a bit of extra money. To be handed this opportunity and hear it phrased as if he would be doing them a favor was almost too much. But Zoey was pulling on his hand at that point, demanding that he say yes, so what else was he going to do?

And then he’d had one of Jacob’s delicious grilled sandwiches for lunch, and before he knew it the rest of his shift was over and he was hurrying out into the light drizzle to take the bus home, changing into his new yoga pants and waiting for Tina to get back, nerves humming, before they drove to the gym, picking up Queenie from the café along the way.

But he’d had nothing to be nervous about. The class had gone fine, and now he knew what Newt’s voice sounded like, the unique way he pronounced the words ‘new students,’ the vowels flicking beautifully in his mouth, and what it felt like to have the full force of his smile directed his way. It had been wonderful, even if he suspected Newt was more interested in Graves already than he would ever be in Credence. The image from earlier returned full force, a sort of pleasurable torture, imagining the two of them locked in an embrace while Credence remained alone, no-one’s first choice.

They would be so beautiful together, though, and he did not really have any claim on either of them. Why shouldn’t they be together, if they wanted? If they became involved, Credence firmly told himself, he would be happy for them.

For now, he got ready for bed, biting his lip as he surreptitiously slid a tissue and a small bottle of lotion up his sleeve before he left the bathroom. He was no longer in any denial about what tended to happen when he lay awake thinking about beautiful men. It was only natural. He was a twenty-four year old man with a healthy sex drive, for goodness sake.

Queenie and Tina’s doors were both shut, their lights off and the house silent, and Credence checked the lock on the front door before turning off the last of the lamps and slipping under the covers, not bothering with pretense as he eagerly wrapped his hand around his cock. He buried his face in the pillow as he imagined Newt and Graves alone in the yoga room, late at night after the gym had emptied. Graves might turn and catch sight of Newt staring at his backside, just like he had been earlier today, and he’d grin, slow and mischievous, his dark eyes twinkling.

‘See something you like?’ he might say. Credence was aware that his internal dialogue was cheesy and cliché, but he was too distracted to come up with something better, anxious to move on to the good part. Newt would approach, biting his lip, his eyes keen and his pretty face flushed, and Graves would turn fully to face him, taking in the bulge in the soft material of Newt’s pants. ‘Mmm, I think you do.’

And Newt would say, ‘You’ve certainly got my interest,’ in his lovely accent, and his elegant long-fingered hand would reach out and slide over Graves’ broad chest, dragging over the planes of muscle and the skin-warmed fabric and then pressing gently, walking him back until he was pinned against the wall. Newt would be watching his face intently, the two of them locked in a nonverbal conversation of desire as Graves reached around and pulled him close, arms winding around Newt’s waist. 

And maybe Newt would gasp suddenly as Graves grabbed two handfuls of his flawless ass, pulling him even closer and murmuring, ‘You like that?’ against Newt’s pink lips, and then they would be kissing, slow and deep, Graves’ tongue slipping into Newt’s mouth and Newt moaning around it, those broad hands kneading deep into the firm curves of his ass cheeks. 

Credence bit his lip. He guessed he really had a thing for Newt’s ass.

Then, Newt would wind himself around Graves, twining his long arms around the man’s solid shoulders and lifting one graceful leg to wrap around his hips as they pressed even closer, the heat of their groins growing more intense as they began to grind together. Graves’ hands would be firm and authoritative on Newt’s hips, encouraging his pelvis to begin to rock against him as they continued to make out, deep and wet. Credence imagined Newt whimpering slightly as Graves sucked his tongue into the hot cavern of his mouth, his fingernails drawing ticklish lines down the smooth skin of Newt’s slender back where one hand had inched under his loose shirt, all the while still rutting together, Graves’ other hand groping his ass eagerly.

Credence thrashed a bit, trying to get into a more comfortable position for his arm to jack himself without making too loud a rustling noise. His throat felt dry, and his pulse hammered in his neck. Now he was imagining the two of them lying down, Newt on top, his tank top gone and the freckles on his skin exposed where they trailed down from his shoulders over the smooth skin of his chest and back. He would be pale and lean and very strong, and Credence imagined that his nipples would be petal pink and there would be some wiry red hair trailing down from the delicate indent of his navel. Graves would be running his hands over every inch of that pale skin, unable to resist, gliding possessive fingertips up the tight muscles of his belly and spreading a palm over his narrow chest to feel the pounding of Newt’s heart, rubbing circles with one thumb over a tightly-budded nipple.

‘Beautiful,’ he would say, and Newt would shiver, bending down to kiss him and sliding their crotches together again in the process. While they were kissing, Newt might ease Graves’ shirt off him too, revealing his broader torso, perhaps a shade or two darker than Newt’s, filled out with muscle, with a trail of dark hair down his front that thickened where it disappeared into the waistband of his yoga pants. There would be a large bulge there, and Newt’s graceful hand would trail over Graves’ delectable chest and slide down to cup his groin, prompting a deep moan from the man under him.

Credence swallowed hard, his pulse pounding hot in his throat and his body singing with blissful tension as he sped up the quiet motion of his hand under the covers.

‘Shall I give you some help with this?’ Newt would say, his voice lovely and low. ‘I am an expert in physical therapy, so I really know my anatomy. And _this_ ,’ Graves would arch his back and gasp as Newt’s hand squeezed lightly, ‘definitely needs my attention.’

At this point, Credence’s knowledge of the technicalities got a bit disjointed. In porn, they always just dove right in, swallowing the moaning actor’s dick right down, but Credence knew from what he had read that there really ought to be a condom involved unless everyone had been tested recently. He had a sudden hysterical thought that if Newt taught a class on how to safely perform fellatio, Credence would sit at the front every day and strive to be his best student. 

In his fantasy, Newt now pulled a condom and a bottle of lubricant from his pocket.

‘First, students, you must make sure not to rip the condom when you open the foil,’ he was saying breathlessly, using the same calm voice he had used to lecture them about yoga poses and various animal facts. But his composure was slightly shaken by the way Graves was eagerly rubbing a hand up his torso again, fingers coming up to pinch his nipples.

‘Why don’t you give them a practical demonstration,’ Graves would growl impatiently, and Newt would retaliate by yanking Graves’ black yoga pants down, releasing his thick red erection, swollen and leaking at the tip. In this fantasy, apparently nobody was wearing underwear. Obviously. Newt would carefully peel open the packet, squirting a few drops of lube inside the tip of the condom and then pinching it before sliding it down Graves’ cock, the muscles of Graves’ stomach trembling slightly with the sensation.

‘Remember, always leave room at the tip for ejaculate. There might be more than you think, especially if you’ve got a real stud on your hands like I do.’ And he would look down at Graves with a sleek expression of pleasurable satisfaction, rubbing a proprietary hand up his thigh before reaching past the bunched yoga pants to cup his heavy balls. Graves would make a punched-out sound, his hips rising slightly into the air. ‘Otherwise it can drip down the shaft and make a mess, you know,’ Newt might calmly continue. ‘Credence, make sure to write that down.’

Back in the living room, Credence forced himself to slow down his strokes, reveling in the slight anticipatory burn of self-denial for a moment. He didn’t want this to be over before his imaginary narrative had run its course. ‘He’s got a lovely phallus, doesn’t he?’ Newt was saying, pink lips curving up into a soft smile as he watched Credence from under his lashes, a flush of arousal working its way down his pale chest as his nipples perked into rock-hard little buds. ‘Quite delicious.’

And then he would gracefully slither down into the vee of Graves’ thighs, hot wet tongue coming out to begin licking fat, glistening stripes up the underside of Graves’ cock while one lubed hand began to massage his balls. Newt’s lips would soon be glossy and obscene as he laid messy open-mouthed kisses up the latex-covered shaft, held steady at the root by his other hand, licking firmly around the thick crown of the head. Graves would be propped up on his elbows, watching Newt at work on his throbbing dick, his gaze absolutely ravenous.

‘If you are not sure you can get it all in your mouth at first,” Newt purred, his eyes contented, ‘you can start by licking. Nice and wet, Credence. Try and pay special attention to the head and the spot right underneath it in the front. That’s called the frenulum.’ He sent Graves a positively smoldering look before leaning down to delicately massage the sensitive spot under the head with the silky underside of his tongue. He licked it in small, intimate swirls, keeping his eyes on Graves’ face, and then he ran the pink tip of his tongue up to dig slightly into the latex-covered slit, prompting a growl, Graves’ hand coming up to fist in Newt’s hair. 

‘Mmm,’ Newt would say, between wet open mouthed kisses to the head of his cock, ‘Always let your partner know whether or not you like your hair pulled, so nobody ends up uncomfortable in the middle of a big moment. But you can go right ahead, gorgeous,’ he added with a wink to Graves, sliding his wet lips right over the head of his dick and finally suckling him into his mouth. Credence could imagine how Graves’ knuckles would tighten as Newt began to bob his head, the lubed hand at the base of his cock sliding up and down as his lips worked their way over the sensitive crown, dragging tightly over the ridge under the fleshy cap as his jaw flexed, swirling his tongue at the same time.

Credence let out a quiet whimper, then buried his face in the pillow, waiting in silence for a few moments to make sure he had his vocal cords back under control before he allowed himself to continue. In his mind, Newt pulled his reddened lips off of Graves’ dick with a slick pop. ‘The key is to avoid any contact with your teeth, Credence. Don’t worry about getting the whole prick in your mouth, especially not your first time. It’s still going to feel good even if you can’t deep throat.’ He leaned down and kissed Graves on the thigh, lingering and moist, his other hand moving fluidly where it disappeared between Graves’ legs, still gently massaging his balls. ‘Not everybody likes their bollocks touched either,’ he added with a sly grin, ‘but I’m guessing you do, baby, since this is your fantasy.’

Then he was diving back in, sliding Graves’ cock deeper down his throat this time, letting it press against the back of his soft palate as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, tongue wriggling against the vein on the underside as Graves grunted and cupped the back of his head, encouraging him with desperate fingers dragging over his scalp and clenching in his copper curls. Newt was moaning in pleasure at the sensation of his hair being pulled, and Credence wondered distantly if that was actually his own preference being projected onto his fantasy of Newt. Probably.

Graves seemed to be going wild with the addition of Newt’s voice, the vibrations from his vocal cords traveling pleasurably through his cock as Newt picked up the pace, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm that matched the hand rubbing firmly up and down the base of the shaft. Credence watched in his mind’s eye as Graves’ eyes screwed shut, his mouth opening in a deep moan, his grip in Newt’s hair white-knuckled and the tendons in the hollows of his hips straining as he twitched in obvious ecstasy but refrained from slamming his pelvis up to choke Newt. Such a gentleman. The volume of his moans increased as Newt kept up his rapid tempo, until finally Graves’ head fell back with a drawn-out sigh, his legs relaxing on either side of Newt’s body and his hand easing its death-grip in Newt’s hair.

Newt was humming, a happy little noise of pure satisfaction, holding Graves’ cock in his mouth for a moment longer as he ran a hand over the man’s heaving chest, rubbing down his abdomen to take hold of the condom at its base. ‘This part can be a bit tricky, since it can still end up spilling all over the floor,’ he said, once he’d let the dick slide out of his mouth. ‘Try and move quickly, before he gets soft.’ He carefully slid the condom down and off of Graves’ cock, now lying hot and sensitive on his thigh, a muscle in Graves’ stomach twitching slightly as the latex slid over the softening head. Newt tied the open end in a neat knot and threw it in an elegant arc to land squarely in the trash can across the room before turning to beam at Credence.

‘Alright, baby. You’ve been a very patient student,’ he said, rasping slightly, his lips still wet and his eyes joyful. ‘Would you like to show me what you’ve learned?’ And then Credence was imagining him grinning and pulling the waist of his own blue yoga pants down, releasing his flushed, damp cock rising from a tidy thatch of reddish curls, and Credence couldn’t hold out any longer.

He bit down on the pillow to prevent himself from screaming in pleasure as he came, hard, his trembling hand barely catching the mess in a tissue as his hips jerked, his ass clenching tightly and his breath shuddering out of him in shivery panting exhales for a long while afterward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep...
> 
> Ahem. I am by no means claiming to be a yoga instructor or a sex ed teacher (or... fellatio teacher?). If you happen to be one of those things, feel free to point out anything I should change.


	3. Chair Pose

Credence could barely look at the couch in the morning. Last night had been a far more elaborate fantasy than he had ever indulged in, and a part of him was slightly afraid of how much he’d liked it. He had carefully disposed of the tissue again, scrubbing the evidence from his hand, but some part of him still felt like it was written all over his face. Not only had he imagined being a voyeur for someone else’s sexual partnership, but he’d also fantasized in detail about two men he was actually acquainted with. That felt like a step beyond the vague, fumbling daydreams he’d had before.

This time, he’d used Newt’s real voice, his real mannerisms to get himself off, and Graves’ too. What would they possibly think of him, if they knew? Was this a violation of their friendship? His stomach felt like it flipped all the way over itself at the thought, sending acid swirling in his gut. Nobody would ever know, of course. It had all been in his head. But he still stayed quiet through breakfast, paranoid that if he opened his mouth some sign of his guilt would slip out. Queenie was distracted by her plans for her projects today in the studio, and Tina still looked half-asleep, so luckily neither of them seemed to notice his silence. 

Today was Saturday, so Tina promptly curled up with her book after breakfast, giving each of them a kiss on the head. “Bambi, I’ll see you at four. Queenie, make sure you’re back by then so I can use the car.”

Queenie nodded distractedly. “No problem.” She had a pencil tucked behind her ear, a beautiful drawing of some sort of gown on the sketchpad in front of her that she was eyeing with a critical frown. Dazedly, she looked up to find that Credence had finished his breakfast and was waiting patiently.

“Oh! Honey, I’m sorry. Got a bit lost there.” She grinned, running her nails through his hair on her way to the kitchen. Credence shivered and his eyes widened. Oh no. Did that feel good for the same reason that he liked the idea of hair-pulling during sex? Was his scalp an erogenous zone? Was that all he was going to be able to think about now when Queenie did his hair? He did _not_ want to be aroused around Queenie, she was his cousin, and also now basically his sister. No, no, no, no, no.

Slightly panicked, he gathered his things for work and followed her out to the car, sliding automatically into the passenger seat and feeling awkwardly vulnerable in the silence that stretched between them as she drove. Would she hate him, if she knew how depraved he was? Sure, she knew he liked men, but did she know he went as far as to fantasize about men he knew, real men with the right to their own lives and their own privacy, who he had imagined doing whatever he wanted? Surely that was not normal. This was different than porn, where the participants had chosen to be on camera. What right did he have to any piece of Newt or Graves’ sexuality, no matter how imaginary? Neither of them had granted him that intimacy.

He forced himself to breathe slowly, avoiding Queenie’s concerned glance as he talked himself back from his internal panic. He was overreacting, he reasoned. Did his fantasies hurt anyone? No. Certainly not as long as they stayed locked in his head, where nobody would find out. He let out a measured breath, visualizing the air swirling through his lungs. And even if they did find out, he couldn’t be sure that anybody’s reaction would be as terrible as he thought. Maybe Graves wouldn’t mind so much. Newt… well, he didn’t really know about Newt. It seemed like an awfully big liberty to take. But they _wouldn’t_ find out, he reminded himself, nobody would. This was all moot anyway. No harm done.

Queenie had pulled up in front of the bakery, her hand stilling him for a moment before he got out of the car, her head tilted in a silent question.

“I’m okay,” Credence said quickly. He would be, he thought. Just… maybe he would take a break from those fantasies for a while. Go back to imagining nobody in particular while he touched himself. Eurgh, and stop thinking about touching himself when he was in front of Queenie, whose presence decidedly _didn’t mix_ with that train of thought. He hastily croaked out a “see you later,” and mercifully she nodded and let him go.

Credence was grateful for the Saturday morning brunch rush that started to build as soon as he had his apron on, Jacob’s voice calling into the back for several more batches of their best-sellers as the pastries in the cases started to empty out. He was able to lose himself in the rhythm of rolling out the chilled dough, sprinkling it with toppings and following the practiced motions of molding it into their now-famous creatures.

By the time he shook himself out of the zone, he had three racks of chili chocolate dragons cooling on the wire shelf, three batches of honey lemon griffins in the oven, and a neat row of perfectly iced peppermint yetis sitting in front of him on the work table. He realized with some surprise that it was almost lunch time, the sound of the bell on the door outside still ringing frequently but the rush of footsteps somewhat quieter. Jacob ducked his head into the back just as Credence was pulling the griffins out of the oven, fanning them carefully with a large flat metal pan and wiping the steam from his face with the back of his arm. He’d pulled his hair up into a bun when he arrived, so his neck at least was cooler than it would have been, though the hair net itched unpleasantly. But Credence was used to it by now.

“Oh, hey! Nice work, Credence,” Jacob said genially, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “I think I can leave Mila out there on her own for a while, it’s quieted down now.” They settled side by side in companionable silence to dip the delicate dragons in thick tempered chocolate, carefully dragging a toothpick through the glaze as it cooled to give the impression of neat little rows of shining scales. When those were finished, Jacob nudged him toward the small table in the corner, where three sandwiches sat waiting, wrapped neatly in white paper. “Help yourself, buddy. I’ll mix up the lemon drizzle and then Mila and I can finish up the griffins while you cover the counter, if you’d like a break from the heat back here.”

Indeed, the kitchen had gotten quite hot. Credence gratefully sank into his chair and devoured his sandwich, made fresh this morning in Jacob’s little apartment over the shop, the flavors of mushroom, roasted pepper, grilled chicken and nutty basil pesto exploding on his tongue. Jacob really could have an entire business making sandwiches if he wanted, rather than just one small side case in the display out front, but his real love was clearly pastry. Credence idly watched the man’s smooth, practiced movements as he expertly whipped up the lemon drizzle icing they used to decorate the griffins, humming happily, his every gesture efficient and sure. It was soothing to watch.

When Credence had finished his sandwich he dutifully scrubbed his face and hands with cold water at the sink, guzzling down a full glass and throwing away his hairnet with some relief before slipping into the front of the shop to send a grateful Mila into the back for her break. The door was swinging open regularly, sending gusts of autumn-scented October air swirling under the counter, and Credence was kept busy with the steady line of people at the counter coming in for a grilled sandwich or a sweet pastry or two for a lunchtime treat. 

He liked being in the back more, but he found that the contrast of the two parts of the job helped it not to lose its interest. If he didn’t have to face the customers, perhaps he would lose his appreciation for the quiet of the back room, and without the long periods in the back he might not feel the relief of stepping out of the heat into the cool, open front of the shop and experiencing the joy of watching people smile when they got their pastries. Of course, there were occasional times when customers were rude or impatient, or changed their mind after Credence had rung them up, or got angry because he miscounted their change. That last one had only happened once, when Credence had just recently started and had been shaking with nerves, and the customer had called him incompetent and demanded to see his supervisor. Credence had fetched Jacob, his shoulders already hunching in preparation for being punished or fired, hot tears beginning to slip down his cheeks as he lurked in the back listening to the customer complain about him to his new boss. And then Jacob had said something that Credence would never forget.

“It sounds like you’re having a rough day, pal. If it would make you feel better, why don’t you take this pastry for free, and then maybe the little things won’t seem so awful after all.” And he had been completely sincere, too. The customer had been shocked into speechlessness, but had calmed down and left, even though Jacob had not said one word of apology nor addressed the unspoken demand that Credence be reprimanded. Jacob had simply sighed when he found Credence curled up and crying in the back of the kitchen. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about that.” Credence had been mystified why Jacob was apologizing when Credence was the one awaiting punishment - the one who had done something wrong. “You never know what people have going on in their minds, do you? It’s a mystery to me. Some people see mirrors everywhere; they look at you and they see their own problems reflected back at them instead of seeing another person. It helps if you can remind them that there’s more to the world than just trouble.” 

He had gently handed over a box of tissues for Credence to wipe his face. “Don’t worry, bud, I’ve miscounted change plenty of times. I’ve found it helps to count it twice before I hand it over just to double check. Why don’t we have you try that from now on? Even so, mistakes might still happen, but not everyone reacts so extremely to an error so small, I promise. That was way out of proportion, and you did not deserve that, especially right in your first week. Why don’t you stay back here with me for the day and I’ll teach you to roll out the dough.”

After that day, Credence had unconsciously given Jacob his complete trust. He had begun to try to carry himself more like Jacob did when he was around the customers, to let any petty impatience roll off his back. You never know what they’ve got going on in their minds, he reminded himself, and all you can do is keep your own self solid and calm, and refuse to be a mirror for the issues they are carrying around with them. And Jacob was right; not every customer was like that. There were plenty of happy, complimentary people who showered him with warm polite words, even if he was a bit fumbling and a bit slow to get their pastries bagged. 

Now, as the afternoon trickled by, he smoothly rung up each order with practiced ease, forged through six months’ time and experience. The orange tissue paper cut outs of jack-o-lanterns on the windows of the shop tinted the incoming sunlight a warm gold, and he enjoyed eavesdropping on several children who were excitedly discussing Halloween costumes while they stood in line with their parents. Credence had worked his way through most of the after-school crowd, and was now grinning at one little boy who was shyly staring at him from his mother’s arms while he rung up her order. Still smiling, he turned to help the last customer in line and came face to face with–

“Newt!” he gasped, his heart feeling like it had just been kicked from a slow trot into a gallop. Newt was wearing a handsome blue pea coat and a striped grey and yellow scarf, his cheeks pink from the cold and his eyes crinkling as he smiled in surprise at Credence. Oh, good lord, that smile was so beautiful, thought Credence in a panic, before forcing himself to take a calm breath. Be polite, don’t gawk, and explain why you just shouted his name.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Sir. My name is Credence. I’ve… just joined your yoga class,” he said uncertainly. Would Newt remember him? He had plenty of students, and had no reason to recall Credence specifically.

But it seemed that he did remember. “Oh yes, from last night,” Newt said pleasantly. “I was so delighted you and your friend could join us. I meant to come round and speak with you at the end, see if you had any questions or anything, but I’m afraid I ended up a bit distracted after class. I tend to do that. Pleased to meet you officially!” he exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious. He extended one elegant hand over the counter which Credence shook carefully after peeling off his plastic glove, his heart pounding. Like Graves, Newt didn’t seem to notice the scars on Credence’s palm, his gaze flickering over Credence’s face from beneath the mop of his curly red hair.

“You as well, Sir,” Credence breathed, trying not to blush. Green. His eyes were _green_. What? His friend? Oh, he probably meant Graves. He supposed it had looked like they had come together, as friends might do. The thought made him feel pleasantly warm.

“You are very kind, Credence, but you’ve no need to call me ‘Sir.’ Please, just Newt,” he said, and his smile grew even sweeter when Credence nodded. “Did you have any concerns about trying yoga for the first time that I might be able to help with? Oh… I suppose now is not the best time for me to ask actually, since you are working, but I can try to keep my answers brief if you have any questions. Ah! Or I can make sure to be available after class on Monday to speak with you. Or before class! I’m always happy to answer questions. Sometimes even before people ask them!”

It seemed that Newt’s habitual chaotic nattering was not limited to yoga class. What was the question he was supposed to be asking? Credence opened his mouth, uncertain, and Newt must have seen some of the low-grade panic in his gaze. “I’m so terribly sorry. That didn’t make a lot of sense, did it? What I ought to have started with was asking how you felt about the lesson. Anything move too fast?”

This time Newt waited patiently for Credence to answer, looking endearingly invested in hearing his reply. Credence was busily squashing the tiny, treacherous part of his brain that was pointing out that his question could also fit the context of the imaginary class they’d had last night. He got a momentary flash of Newt, sprawled over Graves’ lap, freshly fellated cock in his hand. ‘How was that lesson for you?’ he would rasp. ‘Too fast?’ Credence swept that image from his mind with all the violence of whipping a tablecloth off a table, sending it crashing to the metaphorical floor in a tinkle of smashed glass.

He cleared his throat, feeling a bit overheated. “It was fine,” he said, his voice only slightly uneven. “Um, more than fine!” he added quickly, when Newt’s face began to fall slightly. “I’d never done yoga before, so I had no idea what to expect. I was… I was actually quite nervous about not being flexible enough. Turns out it was the balancing that really was the hardest. But I felt very peaceful afterward. I liked it a lot, Newt.”

The man grinned at him a bit bashfully. “And you could follow the sequence? It wasn’t too confusing? Please, feel free to say if it was. I know I end up talking along tangents a lot, and my way of teaching is far from conventional.” He bit his lip lightly. “So far nobody has said anything about it, but I just want to make sure I’m still serving the needs of all my students.”

“I could follow just fine,” said Credence firmly, refusing to let the filthy, treacherous part of his brain imagine Newt ‘serving his needs’ in any other way. “Your descriptions of which muscle groups should be active and in what direction we should feel them pulling against each other was really helpful. It was exactly what I needed to know to do the pose right. I mean, as far as I could tell.”

Newt beamed at him. “I’m so glad! Oh, yes, it looked to me like you had good form, just a bit tight in the hips and legs still. But that’s completely normal! I usually like to move around and check in with people a bit more, but when the room is as crowded as it was yesterday, I don’t quite feel I can maneuver without stepping on someone’s toes. The turnout fluctuates from week to week, so Monday we may have more breathing space. Will I see you there?”

“Oh yes, definitely,” Credence said breathlessly, his head bobbing in a nod. Newt’s beautiful smile at close range could be used as a lethal weapon. Credence felt a bit faint.

“Excellent!” Those eyes were very green, with little flecks of gold at the center. “I could already see you getting steadier by the end of class, and you’ve got a lot of stamina. I think you could really get quite good at this if you wanted. Do you do any other forms of exercise?” Newt was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. It was adorable.

“I run,” Credence managed to say, “I… I’m a runner. Cross country.” Well, at least he had been until Ma had pulled him out of high school. He was only now getting back into the shape he had been when she’d made him quit the team nearly ten years ago. Running on the treadmill was not nearly as nice as running out on the trail, but unless he wanted to run in the dark and the cold, his long work shifts at the bakery meant that indoor running was going to be his best bet until fall and winter were over.

“Ah!” Newt’s eyes lit up. “Wonderful! A great deal of overlap between yoga and running, you know. It can be very helpful to cross-train.”

“To increase flexibility and prevent injury?” Credence added, proud that he at least knew a bit about this and eager to impress Newt.

“Yes, precisely,” Newt exclaimed. “Well. I see you’ve done your homework. It’s excellent that you’re doing both, Credence. And, er… your friend?” he asked shyly, hope blossoming on his face, “Will he be coming back too?”

Of course, Credence thought, Newt was more interested to know about Graves, and to learn what other kinds of exercise he did. The man must do something, probably lifting, to keep himself that built. Why did he have to be so attractive and fit? “I believe so,” he replied, a bit more quietly. “He said he would.”

“Oh, good,” said Newt slightly breathlessly, and Credence’s heart sank as Newt’s cheeks turned slightly pink, his dark eyelashes standing out in contrast against his skin as he twisted his fingers in his scarf and darted his eyes down at his shoes, a soft, sweet smile spreading over his lips.

Credence nodded his agreement rather stiffly, and then there was a long awkward moment where they both stood there searching for something else to say to neatly tie up the conversation, Newt fiddling with the hem of his scarf. It struck Credence that here, off the yoga mat and out of his element, Newt was not so intimidatingly perfect after all. In fact, he was a bit like Credence. Still elegant in his own way, but a bit socially clumsy and unsure how best to communicate. Instead of making him any less attractive, however, the realization unfortunately made Newt all the more endearing, and Credence let out an inward sigh of defeat. There would be no getting out of this unscathed. Either Newt would end up with Graves, or he would pick someone else, but either way Credence was just going to have to figure out a way to get over him, and it probably wouldn’t be pretty. Lots of whining to Tina and sympathetic head rubs from Queenie. 

But none of that was Newt’s fault, now was it? Credence summoned up a warm smile, though he suspected the corners of it were slightly sad. “Did you come in for a pastry, Newt? We have sandwiches too.”

“Oh!” Newt chirped, as if he had forgotten entirely about the fact he was in a bakery. Credence supposed he probably had. He looked grateful for the boon of Credence’s question, to break the drifting silence. “Yes, I would love to try one of the Paninis, if you’ve got any that are vegetarian. I read several reviews online that said Kowalski’s Paninis were the unsung heroes of sandwiches everywhere.”

“Really?” came Jacob’s delighted voice from behind Credence’s back. “No kiddin’? Someone wrote that?”

“Well, er, yes! Not in those exact words, but that was the general gist of it certainly. Might you be Mr. Kowalski?” Newt was a charming mix of shy and eager as he clasped Jacob’s hand. Good lord, he was so sweet. Credence bit down on the idiotic urge to blurt out that Newt was more delicious than any sandwich in the world.

“Call me Jacob, please. I didn’t mean to listen in but I gather you know Credence? From… a sport?”

Credence mentally shook himself, his good manners kicking in. “Oh. Yes. Jacob, this is Newt, my new yoga teacher from the gym.” His eyes flicked back toward Newt. “He… loves animals, too,” he added impulsively, feeling a little hopeless.

“Animals, huh? I got a bit of a fascination myself,” said Jacob warmly, “Credence, too.” And Newt seemed to light up from within, looking between Credence and Jacob with delight.

“Oh, I can see that! These designs are superb. I love the fur detail you’ve got on those molasses black bears! Their species is immediately recognizable without being too elaborate, you know? Because, I mean, any more fine detail and they’d simply be too wonderful to eat! They are already works of art,” he elaborated, his hand twisting slightly in his scarf.

“Well, gosh,” said Jacob, “it’s very kind of you to say so! Here.” And he scooped up a black bear and a Panini sandwich and wrapped them carefully up in paper, waving emphatically as Newt went to get out his wallet. “No, no, I insist! I couldn’t possibly take payment after you’ve said such wonderful things. And anyway, you’re friends with Credence. So, you may as well be a friend of the family,” he said, squeezing Credence’s shoulder. “Credence here is half the reason this shop runs so smoothly these days. He’s got sharp instincts for flavor and plenty of great ideas, not to mention the customers all love him. Especially the kids.”

Credence blushed slightly as Newt took his paper-wrapped delicacies with a look of pleased surprise on his face. “Well, thank you very much, then. Both of you.”

Credence was just gathering the courage to open his mouth and try to say “My pleasure,” in a way that sounded sincere and suave at the same time, when the bell chimed behind Newt’s back and Tina walked in, looking a bit worried.

“Oh! I plum forgot. Credence, that’s what I came out here to tell you. It’s after four, you’re free to head out.” Jacob nodded the clock, and Credence was shocked to see that indeed he was already running almost ten minutes late. As always, the instinctive panic of tardiness roiled like tar through his veins, a panicked byproduct of years of painstaking effort to be on time. Luckily, Jacob knew him almost as well by now as he knew himself, catching him by the elbow before he could work himself into a froth of nerves. “Don’t worry. You tell Juliet I was the one who kept you after, and she can be annoyed with me for cutting into her time with you. She won’t mind, I promise.”

Credence nodded, hurriedly pulling off his gloves and apron, while Newt watched the exchange curiously. But Credence was still a bit stuck in his mind on _late, late, late_ , and he didn’t feel he had the time to do a polite farewell or an introduction between Newt and Tina. He dashed into the back room to grab his coat, muttering a hurried goodbye to Mila where she was carefully rolling and sculpting a new set of dark chocolate moose.

He emerged behind the counter again to find that Jacob was politely introducing Newt to Tina, although Tina seemed to be slightly stiff as she shook his hand. She didn’t like running late any more than Credence did, so perhaps she was feeling a bit impatient. Credence had kept her waiting for fifteen minutes, now.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he hurried to her side, the habitual worry still burning through him. “I wasn’t paying attention, and I lost track of time.” That excuse had never worked with Ma, even when it was the truth. Lateness always meant the belt. His throat felt tight, even though he knew, _he knew_ this was different. Tina was different.

Her eyes softened immediately as she took in the stressed hunch of his shoulders. “That’s okay,” she murmured, sliding her hand into his and squeezing it gently, grounding him in the present moment. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t burned yourself on the oven again,” she joked, trying to put him at ease. That had only been one time, and it was just the tip of his finger, but she had fussed over him like a mother hen for the entire day anyway. It had gone completely over the top when Queenie got home and insisted that his grievous injury meant they were entitled to an evening of ice cream and manicures, to help Credence feel better. Credence, who was feeling just fine, his finger long since numb from the ice pack, let her take the excuse and run with it. She’d ended up painting his nails bright pink, and it had been one of the happiest nights of his life.

The memory made him huff a laugh, the sound a little tight and rusty but still fond.

“Hey, now, we take good care of Credence here! No lapses in safety procedures, I promise,” Jacob said merrily from behind the counter. When Credence looked back over, he saw that Newt was watching him, eyes slightly wide. Quickly shoving aside his embarrassment that the man had seen his nervous reaction, Credence nodded to both of them.

“I’ll see you Monday, Newt. Have a nice weekend. Bye, Jacob!”

Then Tina was tugging at his arm and they slipped out the door, making a beeline for where her car was parked down the block, the afternoon light already starting to fade and the clouds overhead threatening rain.

“So. That was him?” Tina asked, once they were safely ensconced in the dry car and headed to Juliet’s office. Credence was Juliet’s final appointment of the day, and he often felt that perhaps that was because she liked him well enough to want to save him for last. Now, though, he was worried about making her late for dinner at home. Juliet was six months pregnant right now, and he hated to do anything to cause her discomfort. It took him a moment to place who Tina was asking about, a flush immediately crawling up his neck.

“Who, Newt?” He tried to make his voice casual, missing by about a mile.

Tina shot him a look. “Yes, Newt. That was the yoga teacher that Tori was going on about, right? He is pretty cute. For a man,” she said, with a wry grin. Then her eyes narrowed a bit. “Do you think so?”

“Um.” Credence tried not to let his face show any panic. “Sure, I suppose. He’s very nice.” He could feel himself flaming with a blush.

“Oh, yeah?” she asked, looking like she could easily read between the lines of his vague reply.

“Yeah,” he whispered in defeat, letting out the rest of his answer in a rushing sigh. “He’s a good teacher, and he cares about making sure everyone is comfortable in the class, and he talks about animals all the time, and he said our pastries were works of art.” He swallowed hard. “And he is more than cute,” he said petulantly. “He’s beautiful.”

Tina nodded, a small triumphant grin on her face. “Sounds as if you like him.” It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t push for any more details. She was sometimes nosy, and overprotective, but she also could read his emotions like an open book and she knew when not to pry. “You know your pastries are works of art, right? That’s not a surprise.”

Credence bit his lip. “I know.” But there was something about hearing Newt say it that made his stomach flip. Tina was quiet, letting him decide if he wanted to tell her anything else. In a stab of daring, he pronounced, “I think half the class wants to get into his pants.”

Tina’s head whipped around. Credence continued. “You know, like Tori. There were all these people at the front who were talking with him afterward, like they knew him really well. Or they wanted to.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with this confession, but it continued to spill out of him anyway. “I didn’t even get to talk to him at all yesterday. I mean, the class was good but it was so crowded he couldn’t come around to check people’s technique. I was all the way in the back.” With Graves. Though Credence impulsively didn’t mention him, for reasons he wasn’t sure about yet. “He is a really popular teacher,” he concluded lamely.

Tina seemed to speak his language of half-connected thoughts just fine. “Well, then,” she said, with an understanding half-smile, “it is nice you got the chance to catch him today. You know, lay some… groundwork. If you’re interested in… you know.” She looked back at the road, and several long minutes passed in silence, Tina drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

“Credence… are you… you know what to do if, um. You already know about safe sex, right?” Neither of them were looking at each other, both of them blushing furiously. “Just in case. Not that… there’s any reason this would necessarily lead to that… Or that you would have to… unless you wanted...”

“Yep. I’m good, don’t worry. Plenty of information available out there,” he mumbled quickly, cutting off her awkward, trailing question. There was another pause for a silent few moments before he added pitifully, “There isn’t going to be any of that, anyway. He’s not…”

“Not what?” she asked gently, her palm sliding against the steering wheel as they turned down the street where Juliet had her little office.

“Not interested,” he breathed, embarrassed to be sharing this but miserable enough to want sympathy.

“Are you sure about that?” Tina’s voice was patient, but there was some wry humor in it. “It seemed like he was plenty intrigued by you in the bakery. You didn’t see his face when you burst out laughing, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Credence pulled a face. “What?” They were pulling into the tiny parking lot now, rain starting to fall in pitter-pats on the windshield. “I doubt it. He was probably just relieved I wasn’t panicking anymore. He’s just… compassionate, and polite. But there’s no way he’d be interested. I’m sure he’d rather go out with someone like Tori.” Someone confident all the time, with stylish clothes and perfect, un-scarred skin who wouldn’t freak out about tiny little things like being a few minutes late.

“Why? You think he prefers women?” She pulled up the brake, turning off the car, but made no move to get out yet. “You know, Queenie would give you a lecture on making assumptions.”

“I… I know.” Actually, he had no idea how Newt felt about women. Maybe he liked all genders. Or maybe just men; in truth, out of all the people in the class Newt had seemed the most actively interested in Graves. And why not? Graves was confident and obviously successful and had a sharp sense of humor and a beautiful smile. Not to mention he was smoking hot. Credence heart sank a bit. “There’s… this other man in the class, though. He… if Newt does like men, he’ll… Just, I don’t think I’m going to get my hopes up.” It would be better not to, to protect his slowly growing confidence.

“Okay,” Tina said carefully. “Don’t give up completely, though.” She ran her thumb over his cheek. “Bambi, he’d be so lucky to have you in his life. I think he might end up realizing that.” She opened her door, sliding out of the car. “Or maybe he won’t, in which case he’s completely blind and it will be his loss, and we will have ice cream and say mean things about him,” she added over her shoulder.

The rain was really sheeting down now, so they sprinted across the parking lot to the door of Juliet’s building, a renovated house that had been turned into a set of little offices. Her space was all the way at the back, down a cheery yellow hallway behind a door decorated with a professional plaque for ‘Dr. Juliet Kowalski,’ alongside a messy marker drawing of a blob with brown hair labeled “Docter Mommy.” It never failed to make Credence grin. He had been there the afternoon when Zoey had come with her father to pick Juliet up, and had turned her adorable puppy-dog eyes on Juliet to get her to agree to hang it on the door. 

The picture swung slightly now as Juliet poked her head out, taking in the sight of the two of them, dripping and breathless, as they hurried toward her. “Oh, no! Did you get caught in the rain? It’s really coming down out there.” She waved them inside the tiny reception area, where Tina usually waited with a book until Credence was finished. “Got some hot cocoa here, if you’d like some. I had a need for something sweet.” She grinned, pulling the cupboard door open over the narrow counter where the electric kettle stood, freshly steaming, and took out a tin of powdered hot chocolate. “It’s not as fancy as that gourmet stuff, but it’s still good with marshmallows.”

Credence hurried to help her, pouring the water from the hot kettle carefully into each of the three mugs after she had tipped a spoonful of powder in. She topped each one with a handful of marshmallows from a little jar, and then slid one over to Tina.

“Sorry we were late, Juliet,” Credence murmured. She looked up from where she was inhaling the smell of her cocoa, the steam turning her cheeks pink as one hand absently smoothed over her pregnant belly.

“Oh, Jacob texted me, honey. It’s alright. You are usually so punctual, but it’s bound to happen sometimes that you lose track of time.” She smiled serenely at him, reaching out to unstick a wet strand of hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear. “But maybe we should get started now, huh?”

Credence nodded, and she led him further into the space to another door that opened into her cozy office, the walls painted a pale blue and the large window looking out on the tidy yard in the back of the renovated house. Her desk, as usual, was covered with a somewhat untidy assortment of papers, and they sank down opposite each other in twin cushy purple armchairs, the coffee table in between them the perfect height to set down their hot cocoa. Juliet eased her shoes off and curled her legs up under her body on the chair with a sigh, adjusting her position until she was comfortable.

“Okay, Credence, why don’t you tell me how your week went?” She smiled at him encouragingly, cradling the cocoa in her hands and blowing at the steam.

This part was easy, actually. Some weeks, it felt like nothing had happened to move him forward, and he was just circling through the same fears and worries he always had. This week, though, he had something concrete to tell her, something he could be proud of.

“I… started a new yoga class. And I may have made friends with someone in it. A… student. But also with the teacher. He stopped by the bakery just now, and I was talking with him for a while. That’s why I was late.”

She beamed at him. “That sounds like a perfectly valid excuse, then. Casual socializing with someone outside your immediate circle, just like we talked about. So, tell me about this class. How did it go?”

Credence found himself telling her everything, as usual, far more than he had told his cousins. He told her about seeing the class through the window on Wednesday and feeling a pull of attraction toward Newt. Not exactly being sure if he wanted to join the class, but being filled with longing all the same, for some sort of happiness or peace that might be able to be found within those four walls. Even if Newt never showed him any interest, he felt drawn to his presence, unable to resist trying to find out more about him. He told her about the worry he had going in that he would look ridiculous, meeting Graves and hiding in the back, realizing Graves didn’t care a bit if Credence had a bit of a crush on the teacher, since he seemed to have one as well. Here he paused a bit, not sure how much he wanted to go into his attraction to both of them.

“Credence, this is wonderful,” Juliet declared. “You initiated a push out of your routine, and out of your comfort zone. It takes a lot of courage to do that, for anyone. You willingly spent an hour a room full of strangers trying something you weren’t sure you were going to like.” She rested her chin on her palm. “I don’t think you would’ve been ready to do that a few months ago, no matter how gorgeous the teacher was.”

He shook his head. No, and he certainly wouldn’t have had the guts to go in there with Tina’s shirt on. He mentioned that to Juliet too, and marveled aloud at the fact that nobody had even commented on it, or said anything about a boy not belonging in a girl’s shirt. That would have been unthinkable, before. With Ma.

“Credence, as you settle more and more into expressing yourself the way that feels right, I think you’ll find that the people who really matter will just see _you_ in everything you wear.” She had a soft smile on her face as she leaned forward to set her empty mug on the coffee table. “It all belongs together, because it is part of who you are. Your style, your identity, your choice. There are still plenty of folks out there with closed minds, but luckily we live in a city where there are a good number of open, accepting people. And I bet that shirt looked great on you.”

He grinned at her shyly. Actually, it had. Tina had had a penchant for wearing baggy shirts as a teenager, so what had been huge on her was actually just about right for Credence. Just a bit snug where it stretched across his broader shoulders, but well-fitted everywhere else, the worn material softly following the narrowness of his waist to the curve of his lean hips. But he didn’t say any of that out loud, still too uncomfortable with self-flattery.

“I felt good in it,” he said instead. “And Queenie bought me some very comfortable yoga pants. As a present.”

Juliet nodded. And then Credence was reminded how good Newt’s pants had looked on him, how they had clung to the muscles of his glutes, and how his eyes had lingered over Graves’ body under the soft black fabric too. Maybe yoga pants were almost like some sort of mating display, a kind of seduction ritual. Well, if you chose to wear tight ones anyway. When he told his theory to Juliet, she threw her head back and laughed, dark curls falling over her shoulder.

“I think you’re right,” she chuckled. “The bright colors and clinging fabric draw the eye to somebody’s health and vitality, in the instinctive hope that it will make them attractive to a mate. It’s just like the way birds do it, but without the feathers.”

Credence thought privately that if Newt had wanted, he could have been the peacock to an entire room full of peahens. But that was a disrespectful and crude way of framing it, and Credence didn’t think that he ought to assume anything. Maybe bright blue was just Newt’s favorite color, and he wasn’t trying to seduce anyone. Intentional or not, though, Credence’s instincts were certainly satisfied with his display of... um… vitality, and would gladly accept him as a mate. If he showed any interest.

Unbidden, however, the image of Graves smiling at him from the floor, relaxed and happy, rose into his mind. What about him? If, miraculously, Newt seemed to like Credence, would Graves feel disappointed? Let down? Betrayed? They had only known each other for an hour, so Credence told himself he was being ridiculous. But he still felt a bit like he would be squashing the basis of their tentative newborn friendship, shakily established on the two simple pillars of being new to yoga and desiring Newt from afar. Then again, if Graves and Newt ended up in a relationship, that common ground would be broken anyway, and Credence wouldn’t blame him for it at all. If anybody had a chance with Newt, it was Graves, and he would be crazy not to snap him up.

Credence sighed internally, grateful for the distraction when Juliet began to question him further about his week, the progress he was making in his classes, his visit with his sisters last Sunday for church. It was difficult, seeing Chastity and Modesty now. They were both almost unrecognizable to him, in their clean, nice clothes with expressive, happy faces. It was like a phantom wound, his grief and worry for the sisters that he used to have, the ones who were always afraid and unsure and a bit too hungry for love to ever smile. But that reality was gone, chopped off like a rotten limb to allow the rest of their lives to go on, despite the fact that Credence still felt the ghost of that missing piece of him aching sharply sometimes. 

Modesty would be starting high school next year, and she was singing solos in the church choir and doing her hair up the way Chastity used to always dream about doing, when she managed to sneak a fashion magazine into the house. Chastity herself was looking more and more grown-up, and would be attending a private Christian college next fall. The pair of them had begun in foster care with the Grants immediately following Ma’s arrest, and it seemed that the fit was only getting more and more perfect. The Grants were quite religious, but then, so were Chastity and Modesty. The two of them had never had to feel the worst of Credence’s wrenching doubt and rejection on the subject of religion, the absolute feeling of despair that came from years of listening to the teachings of a faith that had no room in it for people like him. Unnatural men. _Sodomites_ , Ma had spat, were bound for the hottest fires of hell. 

Sometimes he wondered if she had known about his sexuality. If she could tell, somehow, despite the fact that for the longest time he had been so deep in denial that he hadn’t had any clue himself. Maybe that was why she had found every excuse to hit him when the girls hardly ever got the belt. 

And then suddenly they had, and the police had done something about it. And all the other dark pieces of their twisted family life had torn apart like wet paper.

Most of this was history Juliet had heard from him before, but she waited patiently as he worked his way through describing the complex feeling of watching his sisters’ eager faces as they listened to the sermon last Sunday and itching in his formal suit, sweating both from the weight of his jacket and his sense of dislocation. Did he really belong there anymore? He knew how much it meant to his sisters that he joined them every other week, but church felt like a farce to him now, an act that he was putting on to make them happy. Donning the suit, enduring the subtly raised eyebrows at the length of his hair, and woodenly singing words that he didn’t mean - it was all just for show. 

If he stopped going, though, would he and his sisters have anything in common anymore? Would they even see each other?

It would’ve perhaps been easier if he could at least dislike the Grants, so he could channel some of his frustrated confusion into resenting them for their part in turning his sisters into perfect strangers. The only problem was, they were actually wonderful people, and Chas and Mod were so _happy_. It was because of Mr. and Mrs. Grant that Credence knew now that plenty of Christians had no problem with homosexuality, and that there were people in the world who had so much love and generosity in their hearts that they couldn’t possibly share it with fewer than twelve adopted and fostered children. Their faith was just part of who they were, along with their kindness and patience.

But that didn’t change the fact that for most of his life he had been handed a set of ideas and been told to believe them without question, and in the end they had made him hate himself more than he could bear. He was wary to ever put his beliefs in anyone else’s hands ever again.

Juliet was listening carefully, her dark eyes serious. “Are you worried your sisters would be angry? If you stopped going to chuch?”

Credence was staring at a scuff on the coffee table, where the soft wood had probably been kicked by accident as someone stood from their chair. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Not… angry. Just, they wouldn’t understand. Church is their way of healing, and they… they assume it is for me too. But it isn’t. I just… it only brings me right back to all the times I had to do things a certain way, and all of it felt wrong. Wear what she told me to wear, say what she told me to say.” He swallowed down around the thickness in his throat. “Think what she told me to think. But I don’t want that anymore, I _won’t_ do it. Not even for Chas and Mod.” He clenched his fist slightly shakily on the arm of the chair. “I want to think… whatever the hell I want. And I may still be figuring out what exactly that is, but in the meantime I don’t need to go listen to a pastor tell me all about _one_ possible faith to guide my life.”

He bit his lip. The swear word had just slipped out, but it felt oddly cleansing. He looked at Juliet, who had her cheek propped in her hand. “Maybe you have you answer, then,” she said gently, and Credence took a slow breath, nodding. He didn’t look forward to the conversation with his sisters, but he already felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off his chest, knowing he wouldn’t be going back to that church again. At least not until his head felt clearer. Or maybe never. It was his choice.

Floating on the high of his surge of independence, Credence spent the last part of the session brainstorming with Juliet, coming up with other activities he could do with Chastity and Modesty. Perhaps Jacob would let him switch his schedule around so that he could spend time with them Saturday morning instead, going to the movies or just taking their dogs out to the park. He would have to pick up another shift on a different day, but they could probably make it work.

“Oh, definitely,” Juliet declared. “You’re my brother’s star employee! Not that he picks favorites. But he would probably rearrange things however you wanted, as long as you stayed at the bakery. He loves having you work there, you know.” Credence could feel himself flushing, the praise making him feel slightly embarrassed but happy all the same. Juliet pulled herself up out of the chair with a groan, and Credence quickly stooped to gather up the dirty mugs so she wouldn’t have to bend over. “Thanks, hon,” she said, padding toward the door in her socks, stretching the kinks out of her back as she went. 

She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “This has been an important week,” she murmured, smiling at him. “I think more good things will continue to come, as you discover what you want to do next.”

Her words stayed with him as he bid her goodnight, and rode home with Tina, quiet and thoughtful in the car. What did he want to do next?

Keep trying at yoga, and maybe make friends with Graves. Be the best babysitter Zoey could ask for. Enjoy Halloween as much as possible, and paint his nails again.

Credence bit his lip, one last item adding itself to the list despite his best efforts to squash it flat before it got there, knowing it would never happen.

Kiss Newt, be his boyfriend, and love him forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, once again I have to mention that I'm neither a baker nor a therapist, and I hope the descriptions of both of those things are not annoyingly inaccurate to those of you who may be in those fields.
> 
> Also, none of that was intended to condemn the practice of going to church. It just seemed like Credence would need a bit of a break, to figure out if Christianity really resonated with him anymore. We're all different, and what's right for one person doesn't work for another. Hope I'm not offending any open-minded Christian readers. Y'all are awesome.


	4. Runner's Lunge

Monday evening found Credence back at the gym, once again hovering in the doorway of the yoga studio, feeling terribly nervous. 

Déjà vu. Only, this time it wasn’t because of the yoga; Credence was actually looking forward to that. He’d done a bit of stretching this morning, trying to re-create some of the poses, and he was excited to give them another try. He was freshly outfitted in his second pair of yoga pants and a clean black shirt he’d gotten at the thrift store for some obscure band called the Weird Sisters, his hair in two tidy French braids this time just like Queenie’s. She’d been delighted when he suggested it this morning instead of the bun, since it would keep his hair out of his face without getting in the way of him lying down. He knew it was an unusual style for a man, but he was proud to be past the point where that sort of thing worried him anymore.

No, the anxious knot in the pit of his stomach had far more to do with the fact that he now had to go in there and walk over to where Graves was waiting for him in the back row. Talking to Newt.

Newt’s hands were gesturing wildly as the two of them spoke, and Credence could see his open eagerness all the way across the room, the way his eyes glowed when Graves asked a question and how his body language tilted longingly toward the other man. Graves was grinning wryly, laughing at something Newt was saying, and the two of them together were more attractive than Credence could handle right now, especially because they looked like they were having a wonderful time and would not appreciate him interrupting them.

“Pardon me,” said a woman’s voice behind him, and Credence turned to see Tori standing at his shoulder, her glossy hair wrapped in a blue scarf today. Peacock blue. “Are you going in?” She gave him a friendly once over. “Oh! I know you! Credence! That’s right, I totally forgot. Queenie mentioned yesterday that you were joining the class. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were here on Friday, I would’ve said hello, gotten you a spot up at the front! It’s awfully hard to see Newt from the back. Did you manage alright?”

They were moving through the door now, Credence caught in her orbit and pulled along automatically like a small magnet towed by a lodestone. The two of them headed toward the front row and then drifted to a standstill as Credence managed to say, “Oh. Um, I was fine. Thank you, but I don’t think I’m ready to be in the front yet,” he explained nervously, hoping she wouldn’t think him rude if he refused a spot next to her. “I like being in the back where I can see what everyone else is doing.”

She tilted her head, as if assessing his answer, but mercifully seemed to let it go. “Well, let me know when you want to move up, we can always make room! Queenie’s always talking about you, I’d love to get to know you better. You’re all coming to the Halloween party, right?”

Grateful for something he could answer more readily, Credence nodded. “Yes, thank you very much for the invitation.” She crinkled her nose a bit as she smiled, and Credence realized that probably sounded a bit stiff and formal. “We’re looking forward to it,” he added hastily, “even if Queenie hasn’t told us yet what our costumes will be.”

This got him a lovely, tinkling laugh, her full lips pulled up in a beautiful smile and her dark eyes sparkling. Any straight man would probably be falling at her feet by now. “That does sound like Queenie,” she giggled, “so secretive. I’m sure that no matter what she makes, it will look amazing on _you_.”

Credence nodded politely, relieved that this seemed to bring their interaction toward a tidy conclusion. “Queenie is amazing,” he agreed, and she gave him that crinkle-nosed grin again, making him feel as if he were missing something.

The next moment, someone called her name behind them, and with one friendly squeeze of his upper arm and a quick “See you later, Credence,” Tori hurried over to greet her friend. Which left Credence to turn slowly and advance toward the back of the room, his steps tentative as he neared where Graves and Newt were still talking animatedly about… dolphin sex?

“It’s fascinating, really,” Newt was saying in his lovely accent. “They’ve been documented using all sorts of different positions, not all of which make reproductive sense. So it stands to reason that some of it is just experimentation for the sake of satisfaction. Dolphins are highly intelligent, so I mean, why not? They’ve got incredibly complex social behavior, the ability to learn new skills and an abundance of free time.”

Graves was watching him, a fondly incredulous look on his face. “And this is why, if you had to be any animal, you’d be a dolphin.”

“Well, yes. Any animal other than a human.” He bit his lip. “It’s not just about the sexual behavior. I mean, it would also be interesting to live underwater. The closest you can get to their experience is an extended submarine voyage, and the real thing would be so much better, I should think. What is it like to breathe through a blowhole? What does echolocation sound like in their ears? What do their whistles mean, in their minds, on their terms of understanding? You see, we have no way of knowing that, no way of experiencing it like they do.”

Graves was nodding. “I can see how that would be interesting. But how would you report your findings to the rest of the world? You wouldn’t be human anymore.”

Newt’s eyes crinkled as he smiled playfully. “Oh, no, you see, in this magical reality we are describing here, a person can not only change into an animal, but they can change back again at will. It would be the perfect method of study to gain access to the richness of social cues and subtle posturing that we probably haven’t even seen the half of yet.”

“Well,” smirked Graves, “you let me know when you get that transformation magic perfected, and then we can see what it’s like to live underwater.” Newt beamed at him, his cheeks slightly flushed as the two of them gazed at each other, and for a moment Credence felt like simply turning around and fleeing the room. He felt like a deflated balloon, empty even of any resentment. They were adorable together. Credence should just head on home and attempt to eat himself straight to death with ice cream, no problem, don’t worry, carry on. But then Graves caught sight of him over Newt’s shoulder, and Credence’s window of opportunity for his half-hearted escape attempt was closed firmly.

“Credence!” Graves somehow looked delighted to see him, even though he was interrupting, his smirk widening into something softer and sweeter, spreading beautifully across his entire face. Credence thought he might have heard a near-silent gasp from Newt; Graves was so gorgeous when he smiled like that. Credence felt a bit breathless himself. “You made it! I was counting on you to show up, so I wouldn’t be back here in this row all alone.” 

Credence got a bit lost in the delicate smile lines around Graves’ eyes, the way the brown in his irises seemed to glow with warmth. “Um. Yes, I’m here.” Very smooth. “Brace yourself, I’ll probably fall over on you again,” he said, in an attempt to revive their playful banter from before.

For a moment he could’ve sworn that Graves eyes had turned slightly hungry, the edge of his smile becoming silkier. “I’ll look forward to catching you, then.” Credence grinned at him happily, hugging the roll of the yoga mat against his chest.

Newt was turning, now, and Credence was distracted by the confused look in his green eyes. Had he not expected Credence to return? He’d said he would, so that couldn’t be it. Maybe he was frustrated that Credence was interrupting his conversation with Graves, and his chance to – as Tina put it – lay some groundwork.

But it was not frustration that was in his eyes, Credence saw, just calm surprise and a bit of something like understanding. “Credence, welcome back,” Newt said warmly, his green eyes sincere and so, so pretty. Credence could feel himself blushing, his pulse fluttering like mad as Newt reached right out and _put a hand on his shoulder_ , making him feel as if he couldn’t breathe. “I have to compliment you on those pastries, I will certainly be back for more.” He squeezed his hand slightly on Credence’s shoulder. “Delicious.”

Credence’s eyes were probably comically wide, his mouth fallen open, but he did his best to compose himself before pulling together the brain cells to say thickly, “Oh, good.” And then, with surpassing eloquence, “Yeah.”

Graves was watching this exchange with an eyebrow raised in amusement, the smile still on his face. “Pastries? Credence, have you been holding out on me?” he joked, “When were there pastries?”

“Oh!” Right, that probably sounded quite strange. As if Credence had gone out of his way over the weekend to find Newt and give him sweets. As if he was trying to win him over to steal him away from Graves. Not that he ever could. “Work,” he fumbled hurriedly, flushing a little hotter at having both of their undivided attention focused on him. It was a potent feeling, and also a bit overwhelming. “My work. I work at a bakery,” he went on more clearly, “in Fremont. Kowalski’s.” He managed a small grin, thinking of their creations, the delicate sweet fantasy creatures, and the way the customers adored them. “I’m one of the shop assistants. We’ve become known for our novelty pastries in the shapes of animals,” he explained to Graves, who was looking sharply interested. “Newt stopped in over the weekend and tried the… molasses bear, was it?”

Newt nodded, smiling softly. “Yes. Your artistry is superb, Credence. It was as delicious as it was beautiful,” he said quietly, and Credence felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“Well, I will have to stop over there as soon as possible!” declared Graves, glancing between the two of them. “So you’re a shop boy, huh? I bet you look cute in your apron,” he added, his voice getting a bit lower although his tone remained light and playful. Newt was watching Graves, who was grinning mischievously at Credence.

“He most certainly does,” Newt murmured, looking thoughtful. Credence felt his mouth fall slightly open again. Newt thought he was cute? Newt liked his apron? Credence blinked. Newt’s eyes were flicking between him and Graves now with a look on his face that Credence couldn’t quite define, something almost wistful.

Graves was still focused on Credence. “All the more reason,” he said, slightly roughly, and Credence was a bit too dazed to remember what that comment was responding to. Graves looked ever so slightly hungry, but Credence no longer felt sure who or what it was for. The pastries? He had lost track of several things at this point, one of which was Newt’s hand, which had somehow traveled down from his shoulder to the bare skin of his elbow. The warmth of his fingers felt like it was sending fizzing sparks along Credence’s skin, shooting zaps of awareness and pleasure along the surface.

“Regretfully, I really ought to start now,” Newt murmured, squeezing his elbow slightly. “But I hope we can speak more later. Enjoy the class. Both of you.” He sent a look at Graves that was perhaps a tad sadder than before, letting his hand slide off of Credence’s arm with one last grin before heading toward the front of the room. Credence watched him go, standing frozen with his rolled up mat still hugged to his chest as he watched Newt pick his way gracefully between the students sitting on the floor, the pale soles of his delicate bare feet flashing below the soft fabric of the periwinkle blue pants he was wearing today, which hugged the lean curves of his calf muscles and stretched over the backs of his thighs. His tank top was white and had a rhino on the back, from some sort of endangered species fundraiser, and there was a curl of tattoo ink peeking out at the top of his spine.

“That’s quite the picture,” Graves breathed quietly in his ear, standing closer than Credence realized. He stifled a jolt of surprise. The man’s voice was silky soft, and sent tingles down his neck, the warmth of his breath tickling the shell of Credence’s ear pleasantly.

“Yes, he is,” Credence sighed dreamily, at the same time as it sounded like Graves murmured, “You in an apron.”

“Hmm?” Credence asked hazily, realizing that the class was about to start and he was still holding his mat cradled to his chest like a baby. He turned, and Graves was studying his face intently, as if looking for something in particular. Credence, uncertain, absently tugged at the spare hair elastic around his wrist before smiling tentatively. Graves’ eyes softened, and he tilted his head.

“You gonna sit on your mat or just cuddle with it today? I’m not judging.” His playful smile was back, and the strange intent look was gone. Feeling some relief, Credence slipped happily back into their friendly banter.

“I’m just warming it up, you know, because it’s been in my bag all day. It’s probably cold. And lonely,” he joked, crouching to spread it on the floor.

“You’re sweet to absolutely everyone, aren’t you? Even your yoga mat.” Graves was shaking his head in mock astonishment, a warm, fond look in his eyes.

Credence let out a regretful sigh, and said grimly, “Oh, not everyone. I said some very rude things to my alarm clock this morning.” 

This surprised a guffaw out of Graves loud enough for the people in front of them to look over their shoulders at the two of them, startled out of their own conversation. Newt was sitting on his yoga mat at the front now, fiddling with a small ipod dock to set up the quiet background music, and Credence saw his head pop up at the sound as well, eyes zeroing in on Graves as the man ran a hand over his face, huffing in amusement. Credence grinned shyly. It really hadn’t been that funny, but it must have hit Graves in just the right way, as jokes sometimes did. The two of them settled down on their mats just as Newt got the sound going, the bustle of chatter in the room dying down to be replaced by the soothing hum of the music, quiet enough for Newt’s voice to be heard clearly over it.

And then Credence’s mind began to slip into a wonderful purified focus, as Newt led them in deepening their breathing, and for a long while all he felt was peace. The lesson passed like a dream, Credence relishing the way his muscles ached slightly as he tried to make sure they were all properly engaged in every pose, taking the time to really settle into each one. This time, he knew which positions were likely to give him trouble, so he tried even harder to hold on to his balance and kept his movements slow and controlled. His pulse sped up a little bit when Newt began to work his way around the room, taking the time to give quiet advice to anyone who needed some pointers as they practiced through a now-familiar sun salutation.

When Newt got to Credence, the class was in downward dog position, and Credence was reminded suddenly of his fantasy that very first night, that Newt would run his hands over his body and whisper praise in his ear. In reality, Newt didn’t touch him, but his voice still sent tingles down Credence’s spine as he murmured, “Very good. You’ll be able to get your heels on the ground soon with some more practice. Sometimes it can help to pedal your feet a bit, gently loosen those hamstrings. Very nice, Credence.” He could feel the head rush of being upside-down augmented by his blush, and managed some sort of nod of acknowledgement before Newt’s soft footsteps moved on to Graves beside him.

“Hmm, I see you have some tightness in your shoulders,” he said quietly. “Very common if you work at a computer. See if you can imagine your breath flowing into the space between your shoulder blades, letting your neck relax a bit more, however much is comfortable.” Out of the corner of his eye, Credence could see Newt’s hand gently sliding over Graves’ shoulder and up his neck, pressing him a bit deeper into the pose, and he bit back the instant flare of desire and jealousy that rose in his chest at the sight of the tenderness on his face.

Then Newt had moved on, slipping back to the front of the room to start them on a new set of poses, including one that involved sitting down as if there were an invisible chair, and then a variation where he twisted his torso to look up at the ceiling while his legs stayed bent in the same position. Newt made it look easy, his nubile spine shifting effortlessly and his strong legs holding him up. Credence’s thighs were already burning from the warrior lunges earlier, and this made them feel like jello, his balance crumbling rapidly as his legs shook. Luckily, he was not the only one having trouble. Most of the class, with the exception of the front-row veterans, seemed to have some amount of wobbling going on in their legs as the challenge of balance grew harder, their quadriceps tiring out.

Credence focused on his breathing, relieved when that pose was over and Newt took them down to the floor for several lying-down positions and some back extensions before smoothly transitioning into their cool down. Again, the class had felt much shorter than an hour, flying by faster than Credence would’ve liked. He lay in the calm peace of corpse pose at the end feeling like his lungs had expanded and every muscle in his body had been activated and then tired out. His legs felt a bit unsteady when he made the mistake of getting up too fast, both from the intense workout and from the head rush of switching from lying down to standing. Shoot. He ought to have listened to Newt and taken his time. The room spun a bit as he blinked spots from his vision, swaying on his feet.

“You okay, Credence?” Graves had pulled himself up to sitting, putting out a hand to steady Credence’s hip. “Take it easy, there.” He carefully stood, keeping a protective hand on Credence’s waist and pulling him closer so he wouldn’t tip over. “I did say I’d catch you if you fell, but I’d rather you were safe and sound. You’re white as a sheet. You feeling okay?”

Credence nodded, and the world lurched again at the motion of his head. Bad idea. “I just stood up too fast,” he managed, keeping himself as still as possible and leaning on Graves. “Head rush.” As the seconds ticked by, he was already starting to feel steadier, his head feeling less like it was stuffed with cotton as his circulatory system got a chance to re-acclimate to gravity.

Graves made an understanding noise. “Ah. Used to get those all the time after a set of bench presses. Learned to take it slow after smacking my head on the rack one time when I almost tipped over.”

“Ow,” Credence said in sympathy, “Well, I’ve learned my lesson, then, too. I think I’m good now. My legs feel like legs again, instead of rubber.” Graves gave him a bit more space, although his hand stayed on Credence’s waist, warm and comforting.

“That’s good. For a moment there you looked like a little deer just getting used to walking.” Graves’ voice was rich with amusement and something else darker, smooth and bold.

Credence sent him a look of surprise, the comment startling out a slightly squeaky “What?”

Graves’ brown eyes were intent, carefully gauging Credence’s reaction. “I mean that in the best possible way, of course.” His pupils had a ring of warm amber at the center, Credence noticed. The two of them were standing very close together. “Just… You’ve got such long legs and pretty doe eyes. It… I meant it as a compliment. I’m sorry, I… Did I made you uncomfortable?” he finished quietly, his brow furrowed and his hand still resting feather-light in the small of Credence’s back, hovering like he was thinking about moving it away.

Breathlessly, Credence sent him a reassuring smile. “Oh! No, you just startled me. I thought you somehow knew… Um, my nickname used to be Bambi when I was a kid,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. “My cousins still use it to tease me,” he admitted. “But… not in a bad way.” He didn’t want Graves to think even for a moment that his cousins treated him poorly.

“My God, I bet you were adorable,” chuckled Graves, letting go of Credence now to roll up his yoga mat. The room was emptying and Newt, as usual, was chatting with several people, Tori among them. Credence unexpectedly missed the touch of Graves’ hand on his back as he bent to roll up his mat as well.

“My cousins thought so,” he said shyly. “I was much younger than both of them, so that was part of it.” He and Graves headed toward the door.

“Ah! The baby of the family, huh?” he asked playfully, and Credence nodded. At least until Chastity had been adopted, but that was later. After Ma had stopped speaking to Aunt Beth, and Tina and Queenie had become barred from his reach. He’d only seen them again many years down the road, at the funeral for their parents, which Ma had grudgingly attended, her mouth set in a tight frown during the three hour drive out from Richland. She’d been wearing her most severe attire, sniffing in deep disapproval at the Unitarian memorial service and clutching her worn bible in between shooting dark glares at Uncle Aaron’s cousin’s yarmulke.

Tina had been tall and pale, and so adult in Credence’s eleven-year-old view, her dark eyes hollow and red-rimmed as Queenie sobbed into the lapel of her black coat. Credence had only managed to slip over to them for a moment afterward, when Ma was occupied by engaging the Unitarian minister in what sounded like an incredibly uncomfortable conversation. His palms had been sweating and his steps tentative as he crept out the church doors and across the wet grass to where the two sisters were huddled together by the headstone, uninterested in the potluck dinner inside. His throat had been tight as he watched Tina smooth a hand over her sister’s hair. _Elizabeth and Aaron Goldstein_ , the headstone read, _Loving parents, beloved by their family_. And he could see now, in his cousins’ grief-stricken faces, how much love there really had been in that household. It was not something Credence knew much about, having never felt affection that deep from his Ma, but his heart was breaking all the same as he watched them cling to each other.

Tina saw him there, finally, her face blank and wet with tears, her eyes unsure for a moment before the light of recognition appeared and she held out a hand to him. Despite the time that had passed, six years without a single visit, she folded him automatically into her arms in the pocket of warmth next to Queenie, silently wrapping an arm around his thin shoulders as he shivered in his worn-out coat. Queenie had sniffled, withdrawing her face from Tina’s shoulder to look down at him. They had both seemed so _tall_. “Could it be? My little Bambi?” she had said in a wet voice, her hand tracing over the cold skin of his cheek. “You’ve grown so big.” Queenie’s voice was wistful and sad, the expression on her face painful, her long blonde curls in wet disarray, heedlessly unkempt.

He had wished desperately then that he could bring her smile back, that he had something better to say than just “I’m so sorry,” his voice cracking and the damp soaking into his shoes as he stood there, painfully awkward and filled with the inappropriate wish that he was their sibling too, that he could share their grief and be welcomed into the love they had for each other. It seemed wrong to want something from them, to be greedy in the face of their sorrow, but as Queenie whispered, “Not your fault, but thanks for saying so,” and pulled him close, he couldn’t help but cling to her with every bit as much desperation as she had just been clutching her sister, grieving for something else entirely.

Clearing his throat slightly, he shook of the cobwebs of the memory and turned back to Graves. “Yeah, for a while. I have two younger sisters now, though.”

Graves gave him a slow nod. “I see. Well, that would explain how responsible and caring you seem to be. Older siblings often are.” Credence didn’t know about that. He hadn’t been able to care very well for Chastity and Modesty at all; the best he could do was draw all of Ma’s anger onto himself, which had still left them without enough warm things for the walk to school and without any way to get rid of the haunted look in their eyes.

Credence made a noncommittal sound as they continued toward the door. Newt, catching sight of their approach, sent them both a friendly wave as they headed out. Credence saw him quickly turn back to Tori afterward, nodding at something she was saying, and he felt a bitter twist of anguish in his stomach as she smiled her flawless grin, her teeth very white and even. Tori ran her peacock-blue nails over Newt’s arm, and Credence had to look away, hurrying to catch up to Graves, who was nearing the stairs.

For some reason it hurt more to imagine Newt with Tori than it had to picture him with Graves, perhaps because, despite Credence’s jealousy, Graves was rapidly becoming his friend, someone who he felt a thread of protectiveness over. He felt invested in Graves’ happiness. If Newt wanted Graves and Graves wanted Newt, then Credence wanted them to be together in absolute bliss, dammit, even if it meant he didn’t get any piece of Newt’s heart for himself.

“Are you carpooling again, Credence?” the man asked over his shoulder. “You have a ride home?”

“Oh, yes,” Credence reassured him. “It’s… I live with my cousins, so they always take me home. They’ll be getting out of kickboxing soon. Their class meets the same days as yoga, and then Tuesdays and Thursdays they swim laps and I run.” He waved a vague hand toward the treadmills, meandering toward the water fountain.

Graves made an intrigued noise, “I’m guessing those long legs help with the running, huh? You prefer long distance or sprints?”

“Long distance, by far. I don’t mind sprints, they just don’t feel as satisfying as a nice long run, where you really get to settle into a rhythm and let the endorphins kick in. The rest of the world kind of just falls away,” Credence answered automatically. He was just now realizing that a lot of the activities he enjoyed most were ones that allowed him to escape real life and float away in his own mind – yoga, running, reading fantasy novels, even the meditative working state of making pastries. For so many years when he was a child, daydreaming had been his only refuge, the only respite from the unpleasantness in his life, and maybe it had become ingrained in him to seek stress relief in activities that allowed his mind to wander peacefully. Uhm. Like masturbating. 

To cover his blush at the realization, he bent to take a drink from the water fountain, and Graves leaned himself comfortably against the wall next to him. “That sounds nice,” he said quietly, leaning his head back to rest against the paneling. “I’ve never tried cross country running myself. Always thought I’d be too impatient to enjoy it. But, hey, I never thought I’d like yoga either,” he said, with a wry twist to his mouth. “Maybe it would be worth another experiment, if you like it so much. You said you come every Tuesday and Thursday?”

Shocked, Credence nodded, his head still bent over the jet of water. Did Graves want to spend even more time with him than just yoga class? Credence didn’t have a lot of experience with people specifically seeking out his company, and the prospect made his whole body feel pleasantly warm. The man was watching him drink, a soft smile on his face. As Credence straightened, Graves flicked his eyes to Credence’s lips, pink from the cold of the water.

“Yeah,” he murmured, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I’ll be here. Do you, um…”

Too late, he realized that Graves’ eyes were widening, his gaze on Credence’s hand, the palm of which had just been upturned in plain view, angry scars and all, squarely where Graves had been looking.

“What happened here?” Graves asked softly, reaching out for Credence’s hand. When Credence flinched involuntarily away, Graves pulled back as if he’d been burned, his expression falling into worry and dismay, and Credence felt his heart sink. He hated this, dreaded what usually came next. The questions, then the pity, then either horrified shock or morbid curiosity. He could already feel his shoulders hunching and his lungs beginning to tighten as he clenched his hands hard at his sides. 

“I’m so sorry, that was rude of me,” Graves said quickly, something desperately like panic in his eyes. He shifted closer, very slowly, like he was trying to approach a spooked animal. “It’s none of my business,” he said firmly, “and I interrupted our conversation. I’m an asshole. Can we rewind? What were you saying?”

Credence stared at him, emotions fluttering in his chest, feeling strange and vulnerable and relieved. Was it that easy? Credence had had perfect strangers come up to him on the bus before and ask about the scars, back before he was careful to keep his palms lying flat down in his lap at all times. Sometimes their curiosity and concern was almost aggressive in nature, despite his obvious discomfort. Graves had far more right to ask than they had, considering he was approaching being Credence’s friend, and yet it seemed he was not going to press his advantage at all.

Graves stayed casually close, but did not try to touch Credence again. His eyes were impossibly soft and gentle. “Would you mind if I came and ran with you? You wouldn’t have to change your routine at all, or even talk to me. I know the whole point is to get into your zone; I’m not trying to mess that up.” He waited patiently as Credence struggled to find an answer to that, baffled as to why Graves would think he wouldn’t want to talk to him, when he’d enjoyed their conversations so much thus far. Perhaps he had not made it clear enough how much he liked the man’s company, his dry humor, his warmth and open confidence, and his inexplicable interest in the details of Credence’s life. Sure, he didn’t like it when strangers started trying to chat with him from the next treadmill over, but this was different. This was Graves.

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” he said firmly. “We can talk and still enjoy the run. I… it does get a little boring sometimes on my own. I usually listen to an audiobook, but I just finished one and I haven’t gotten a new one yet.”

Graves’ smile grew slowly, his face unguarded and hopeful. “Oh yeah?” he murmured.

Credence was powerless to resist smiling back at him. “Yeah… It’s… actually, it’s good to talk while you run, because that way you stay at an aerobic pace. If you can’t run and talk at the same time, you’re going too fast. At least for the kind of workout we’re doing. So… you should… If you wanted to join me, you would be welcome. I mean… I would… Yes. Please come.” Credence huffed out a self-deprecating chuckle at how awkwardly that had tumbled out of his mouth.

“Okay, I will.” The man was beautiful when he smiled like that, wide and radiant, as if Credence had just offered him an opportunity far more exquisite than just jogging for the better part of an hour in a stuffy gym. Graves let out a soft, stunned laugh. “You do realize this means I will actually have to leave work on time all week long. Sera will think I’ve been replaced by an imposter.” He looked delighted at the thought, then his expression sobered. “Actually, speaking of, I really should get going. If I’m going to be out of the office by a reasonable hour tomorrow, I need to make sure I get in bright and early to get a head start.” But he was making no move to go yet, his eyes still fixed on Credence’s face. “Thank you,” he said softly, “You’ve given me something to look forward to.”

“My pleasure,” Credence murmured, amazed. And then Graves was backing away, sending him one last smile before he disappeared around the corner that led to the door.

Huh.

\--

It was perhaps no surprise that the rest of the week severely tested Credence’s resolution not to indulge in any inappropriate fantasies about Newt or Graves.

Graves had shown up to the gym the next day in a pair of black shorts and a clingy shirt made of some sort of fancy sport fabric that probably breathed like Egyptian cotton, wicked moisture, and had SPF 50 or something. Oh, right, and it also emphasized the definition of his chest and showed off his solid shoulder muscles to perfection. His legs were built strong like the rest of him, and covered with a layer of dark hair, and Credence had had to force his eyes away, strangely captivated by the meticulously tidy knots in his shoelaces, and the subtle tan line crossing the delicate bone of his ankle. Their run had gone off without a hitch, even though Credence realized when he arrived that they had forgotten to set a meeting time to start. As it was, Credence was already two miles in by the time Graves got there, but it turned out for the best. 

Graves was not a runner. He had the potential to become one, but Credence could see that he didn’t yet have the stamina for more than a couple miles, his breath growing harsh and his face set in discomfort even though he stubbornly refused to complain. It was likely that his lungs and heart had not been put through something like this in a long time, if most of his workouts were weight-bearing, and it was always so hard at first to push through the labored exhaustion, the dull all-around ache. Three miles after Graves had joined him, Credence carefully suggested a water break, to Graves’ poorly-hidden relief, which turned into chatting by the water fountain for the rest of the hour. 

It was a giddy feeling, to have the man’s undivided attention. While they had been running, Graves had wanted to know anything and everything that Credence was willing to tell him, his questions spoken with a slight shortness of breath but no lack of genuine interest. Credence found himself telling Graves all about the bakery, his favorite parts of the job and his worst experiences with customers, prompting several gratifyingly indignant reactions on his behalf. 

When they got off the treadmills, Credence managed to get the man to open up about his own job, though he had to admit it hadn’t made much sense to him, not being familiar with the business security world. He worked for some sort of consulting firm that did assessments for corporations and government agencies to analyze their security systems and… fix them? If they were broken? It was all probably fascinating to someone with an interest in coding and data encryption, authentication protocols and vulnerability analyses, but it was a bit too far out of Credence’s wheelhouse for him to get a clear picture what exactly Graves was describing. It was interesting anyway, if only because he got to see the way Graves’ eyes lit up with intensity when he spoke about his work, and the way he stared at Credence in delight when he asked politely to know more. It was clear it mattered a great deal to him, even if it also seemed to grind him down. The long hours he worked were not balanced with enough relaxation, it seemed, and it made Credence want to force him to take a nap.

And if that imagined nap led to other things in the dark recesses of his mind, Credence carefully avoided thinking too hard about them. 

Credence’s dreams when he got home that night were hazy, but he distinctly remembered flashes of dark hair and tanned skin, broad shoulders and a warm smile, and a low aching thrum of arousal following him throughout his sleep.

Unfortunately for his poor overworked libido, that was only the beginning. 

Newt showed up to yoga on Wednesday with the peacock blue pants again, the same ones he’d been wearing when Credence had seen him for the very first time, the fabric just as vibrant and soft as he remembered, and the… ahem… assets underneath still equally firm and perfect. It took all of his focus to remain attentive to the lesson instead of drifting helplessly into a re-run of the fantasies he’d had that first night, centered around those pants, not able to respond with more than a squeak when Newt came around to correct his posture during eagle pose. The touch of his hand on Credence’s back felt as if it sent an electric pulse of awareness through every single nerve in his body. He tried unsuccessfully to resist staring at the freckles on the bridge of Newt’s nose, drinking in the faint smell of eucalyptus and mint that wafted from the sweat-moistened roots of his hair, the soft way his teeth grazed his pink lower lip when he said the word ‘vertebra’ in that low melodic voice.

And then it was Thursday, time for another run with Graves, who was this time wearing a sleeveless black shirt, his deltoids and biceps just as ridiculously well-formed as they had seemed under his other garments. Credence had to drag his eyes away from the cling of the soft fabric to the hard lines of his torso, noting that there were a number of interested glances coming over from the women on the treadmills at the end of the row. Graves just smiled warmly at Credence and matched his pace, managing four miles this time before he had to stop and work out the stitch in his side, their easy camaraderie continuing to make the run more pleasant even after Graves had stopped. He leaned himself against the side of Credence’s machine, casual and smooth, his dark eyes watching the motion of Credence’s long legs as he kept up his questions about what he was studying, what books he liked, and whether he had ever tried the Thai place down the street that was supposed to be incredibly good. When Credence hopped off his treadmill, it seemed impossible that the entire hour had passed; Graves’ company provided such an excellent distraction that it felt as if he had hardly exerted himself at all. 

They meandered over to the wall to stretch, Credence taking the opportunity to re-do his sweaty ponytail, and when he looked up he nearly choked on his tongue to see Graves pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his brow, revealing more smooth skin and abdominal muscle than his brain knew what to do with.

Needless to say, that night in bed Credence was plagued with hot, scorching dreams of being held by someone very strong, the dense press of his body and the warmth of his arms enough to make his dream-self wriggle with pleasure.

And then, on Friday, he got to see Newt’s tattoo.

They were nearing the end of the lesson, and one of the more experienced students was asking about handstands while the rest of the class was bent over stretching, standing with their legs spread and their palms on the mat in between their feet. Before Credence knew what was happening, Newt had stripped off his tank top (“This just ends up over my face when I do these,” he explained matter-of-factly), widened his stance and planted his hands on the mat, his body so flexible that his torso tucked fully between the inverted vee of his legs. And then he rose up on his toes and straightened his arms, and the next moment his feet had lifted right off the ground, easy as breathing. Those long legs spread up and out in one slow sweep as he stayed perfectly balanced on his palms, lifting gracefully up toward the ceiling. His spine straightened until his feet met overhead and he was one perfect vertical line, his pale back facing the room and giving them all an excellent view of the sinuous tattoo curled over his skin. It was some sort of creature, with gleaming blue scales and great feathery wings that spread across his back to tickle the sides of his ribs, its taloned feet sharply detailed and its head nestled in the dip between his shoulder blades. The beast’s languid gold eyes stared out at them above a delicately curved beak, its handsome head topped with a sleek mane of feathers that trailed down its serpentine body.

Credence’s mouth was dry. The tattoo was beautiful on its own, but it was made all the more exquisite by the fact that it represented Newt so well. An unlikely juxtaposition of opposites, existing together in a form that surpassed elegance. Newt was a creature of mind and body, of intellect and athleticism, both airy and grounded, a miraculous hybrid uniquely attuned to the many parts of himself in a way that few people were able to achieve. He was soft and hard, strong and gentle, shy and eloquent, awkward and graceful.

And _so hot_. 

The long muscles of Newt’s back rippled under the tattoo as he maintained his balance in the handstand, his legs slowly parting to come back down into a split out to the sides. Credence wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore, his heart beat throbbing in his groin at the sight of Newt’s ass cupped by those soft pants, his legs spread open so wide, feet drifting downward until they once more touched the floor and he could ease his weight off his hands. When he stood up, his face was flushed, his hair mussed, and his chest was heaving, and oh God there was another tattoo climbing his ribs on one side, smaller than the back piece but no less detailed. By the looks of it, it was another hybrid creature, rearing up just under his lean pectoral. Credence got a flash of horse’s hooves, talons and wings, and the fierce profile of an eagle before his eye was caught on the delicate pink of Newt’s nipples and stayed helplessly locked there until the man slipped his shirt back on.

There was a nearly inaudible sigh of disappointment from somewhere in the room, and Credence closed his mouth with a click. Newt, still a bit flushed, seemed oblivious to the sudden tension in the studio, continuing to babble happily about practice poses to work up to a handstand, waving an arm as he described several techniques to improve balance and flexibility.

Credence was still a bit shell-shocked by the time the lesson was over. Corpse pose at the end had been a singular kind of torture, trying not to let himself re-live the image of Newt’s bare chest, or the perfect split of his legs, lest he get an erection that would be plainly visible while he lay on his back in his clingy yoga pants. It was the first time that those last five minutes had been the opposite of relaxing. When they were finally done and he was rolling up his mat, he realized he was absently ogling Newt as he bent to turn off his ipod, watching as his movements pulled his pants taut against his muscular thighs. Credence hurriedly looked away, accidently catching Graves watching him thoughtfully. The man sent him the ghost of a wink, grinning slyly. 

“Some handstand, huh?” he whispered, and Credence blushed like a forest on fire.

It was later that night that he finally gave in.

Queenie and Tina had long since gone to bed, and Credence was tossing and turning in the dark, wrestling with the idea of letting his mind take him back into the fantasy he’d been resisting all week out of respect for the two men that featured heavily in it. But, he reminded himself, the act was all in his head. They would never need to know, or feel objectified, like he had crossed a boundary in their friendship, right? Actually, Graves had had no problem pointing out various things about Credence that he found visually appealing, and Newt had called him cute. It wasn’t really the same thing, but maybe it wouldn’t offend them nearly as much as he thought. It was instinct, after all, to think about someone hot when he touched himself. Perhaps he could be forgiven for it, then, considering it felt so right.

Thus decided, he found he couldn’t stop the sudden flow of images that bombarded him behind his fluttering eyelids as he snuck a hand into his soft sleep pants, biting his lip. Newt was doing the splits upside down, his back flexing in the handstand, while Graves approached wearing his running gear, the lights of the yoga studio glinting off the muscles of his arms, the solid bulk of his shoulders. Newt would come down out of the handstand, his cheeks flushed and his chest heaving, and perhaps he would stumble a bit (‘Oh. Head rush’), giving Graves an excuse to put his hands on that lean, bare torso, steadying him with one broad palm on his back while the other hand curled around the side of his waist. 

‘Steady, there,’ he might say, his voice deeper than usual, dragging Newt in tight to his body. ‘That was quite the picture. Your legs spread out like that. Made your ass look positively... edible,” he breathed in Newt’s ear, making his eyelashes flutter in pleasure and his pink lips part softly in surprise. Credence imagined Graves’ strong hands running down Newt’s narrow back to squeeze that ass again, just like he had fantasized about before. This time, however, he allowed himself the exquisite agony of picturing Graves sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of Newt’s clinging yoga pants, his knuckles visible through the blue material as he cupped those muscular cheeks possessively, Newt’s bare skin hot and silky under Graves’ palms.

Newt would shudder, his mouth falling open, as Graves bent to suck hot kisses against his neck, his hands questing deeper into Newt’s pants until one finger found what it was looking for. ‘Oh!’ The whimpering gasp Newt would make when Graves ran a firm fingertip over his asshole would be so delicious that Graves couldn’t help but chase another one, rubbing a dry finger in a teasing circle around the rim and prompting a soft keening wail, before kneeling to yank Newt’s pants down to his ankles. Newt would send a sultry, delighted grin down at Graves as the man pressed open-mouthed kisses all over the tight, sensitive plane of his stomach, tongue flicking into his delicate navel, the hollow of his hip, and the soft trail of red curls leading down to his rapidly hardening cock. Graves would be gently manhandling Newt out of his pants, lifting one slim ankle at a time to slide the skin-warm fabric off and out of the way, until Newt stood completely bare in the lights of the empty yoga studio, his body pale and elegant and strong.

Credence didn’t have to imagine the look of worshipful wonder that Graves would wear as he stared up at Newt’s incredible beauty and sweet smile; it was simply the outward display of everything Credence felt every time he looked at Newt, heard his voice, or watched the way he moved his hands while he talked. 

‘Well?’ Newt would purr, running one long-fingered hand through Graves’ dark hair. ‘How do you want me? I’m very flexible, you know.’

Credence could imagine the punched out noise of arousal Graves would make at those words, his hands busily running themselves over the curves of Newt’s muscular calves, up the ticklish backsides of his knees to clutch the meat of his lean thighs. ‘Baby, I just want you where I can watch you lose control as I eat your perfect little ass.’

‘Oh!’ Newt would be slightly flustered at the hunger in Graves’ voice, his faded blush returning in full force and staining his cheeks pink as he bit his lip in anticipation. ‘Mmm, I think we can figure something out.’ Credence was slightly flustered himself, not having realized how arousing the idea of rimming was until he imagined it in this context, with these two men both completely into it. In the soft glow of his dream world, the part of him that squirmed in discomfort at the idea was quiet and curious. If he could imagine all the rest, surely there was no harm in figuring out if he might ever want to try this too. What if Graves and Newt had just showered before this, he thought quickly, downstairs in the locker rooms, their skin still slightly moist and their hair wet and smelling of eucalyptus and mint as they eagerly kissed.

He imagined Graves laying Newt out on his back and licking into his mouth while he folded the man in half, his long flexible legs pressed open on either side of his torso, freckled forearms effortlessly twining around his calves. Graves would put a pillow under Newt’s head and another under his hips, because even in Credence’s imagination he was still a gentleman. 

‘Holy fuck, you look more delicious than any pastry,’ Graves would growl, bending to place a biting kiss on one pert asscheek, taking in the sight of his clenching anus, pink and clean and tight, waiting in the spread-open cleft of his ass. ‘ _Fuck_.’

Credence had never had much use for that swearword until now, but it seemed to be the only possible way to encapsulate the desperate arousal he felt at the mental image of Newt’s gorgeous body folded intimately open, the implicit trust involved in such an act of submission, to lay exposed in front of Graves’ ravenous gaze. Graves would tease him, of course, a dark mischief sparkling in his eyes as he trailed kisses up Newt’s ticklish inner thigh, mouthing softly at his tensed belly and nuzzling his heavy balls before finally sucking one into his mouth.

‘Ah!’ Newt would be watching him intently, his helpless flush still pinking the skin of his cheeks and chest, until Graves finally licked a teasing stripe down his perineum and grazed the tight pucker of his asshole, at which point Newt’s neck would arch back automatically, his moan forced out of him with a hint of a whine as that little pink opening quivered slightly in the wake of the drag of Graves’ tongue.

‘Fuck, just look at you,’ Graves would say roughly, helpless to do anything other than obey when Newt, breathless, demanded, ‘More.’

Graves’ thumbs would dig slightly into the soft flesh of Newt’s delicious ass cheeks as he pulled them open further, burying his face in the musky warmth and dragging the flat of his tongue firmly from Newt’s tailbone to his balls, getting his entire cleft wet and glistening. Newt would be squirming slightly against his own hold on his legs, trying to arch his back and rut into Graves’ tongue but unable to get the leverage. Panting, he would have to lie there locked in place while his ass was sampled like a fine meal, his voluntary helplessness equally as arousing as the sounds Graves was making as he sucked wetly on the delicate skin of Newt’s perineum.

‘God, you are perfect. Such a sweet little ass,’ he’d growl before diving in to lash little flicking circles with his tongue right over where Newt was clenched, quivering and pink, Graves’ mouth becoming glossy with saliva and his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as his eyes drifted closed in inexorable pleasure. ‘Mmm,’ he would purr, tongue jabbing more firmly now, coaxing that tight furl of muscle to flutter open as he continued his wet stimulation of the glistening rim. Credence could imagine Newt starting to lose his composure as the vibrations of Graves’ voice rumbled right against his sensitive skin, his brow furrowing with pleasure as he gasped out another beautiful keening moan, sweat glittering in the delicate hollow of his throat.

Graves had a wet finger rubbing gentle circles on Newt’s perineum now as he hardened the muscle of his tongue into a point, wriggling the tip of it past the reluctant yield of his clenching anus to caress the silken heat of his insides. The imaginary drawn-out wail Newt produced made Credence’s cock blurt a warm trickle of pre-cum, his harsh breathing muffled into his pillow as he clutched the base of his cock desperately to keep from coming. It was too soon, too delicious to be over yet.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Graves sit up and replace his tongue with a lubed finger, rubbing little circles as he hungrily watched Newt bite his reddened lower lip and let out a small hitching whimper, their eyes locked together as Graves loomed over him. Graves would wipe his saliva-wet chin on the back of his free hand before bending to place a wet kiss on one beautifully perked nipple, his other arm now moving in a smooth thrust, one finger sliding into the wet clutch of Newt’s ass and prompting a cut-off moan that sounded like it skirted the edge of a sob, writhing when Graves crooked the finger inside him. Graves’ mouth had traveled up to Newt’s vulnerable throat now, dragging light open-mouthed kisses over the fluttering pulse in his neck and the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallowed between gasps.

Then there was another finger joining the first, and Graves was licking down to Newt’s other nipple and taking it delicately between his teeth, Newt pressing his chest up into the contact and trying to catch his breath as the tempo of Graves’ thrusting hand began to increase, the wet rhythmic sound of penetration filling the quiet of the empty room along with the hitching gasps of Newt’s exhales. Graves’ broad fingers were fucking into Newt’s ass steadily, following the same rhythm as Credence’s own hand on his dick.

The details of safe sex had long since gone out the window at this point, and it was a dream anyway, so Credence didn’t bother imagining a condom as Graves dragged his mouth down Newt’s tense belly to lick up the sticky pool of pre-cum drooling from his flushed cock, lying throbbing and twitching on his abdomen as Graves continued to finger-fuck him firmly. Graves’ mouth then drifted lower, Newt letting out a hoarse cry as the wet heat covered the head of his penis, Graves’ reddened lips gliding down the shaft as he hollowed his cheeks and sped up his thrusting arm even more.

Newt’s body was taut as a bowstring, his belly quivering under Graves’ cheek as his back arched and his head thrashed on the pillow, hips squirming as Graves sucked the head of his cock down and swallowed, his tongue rasping wet over the underside of the crown. Newt screamed as he came, ass clenching hard on Graves fingers and pearly strings of come slipping out past the corners of Graves’ eager mouth, his grip white-knuckled now on the backs of his own knees, entire body trembling with the after-shocks as Graves purred around his cock, continuing to assault his prostate with a few more deep rubs of his fingers, milking a few last feeble spurts of semen out of Newt’s twitching prick. Newt’s body jerked as Graves licked softly at the sticky white drips trailing down the shaft, whining plaintively at the oversensitivity of it but not asking him to stop. Graves cleaned the last few pearly drops from where they had gathered in the dip of Newt’s navel, lingering for a while and simply kissing him there, drawn-out and satisfied, while Newt got his breath back.

‘That was so beautiful to watch, baby,’ Graves whispered, easing the fingers out of his ass and moving up Newt’s body as he slowly relaxed, legs easing down to wrap around Graves’ still-clothed hips, the contrast of his dressed state against Newt’s complete nudity ticklishly arousing. Graves settled himself between Newt’s thighs, taking care not to put too much weight on him as Newt dragged his fingers through Graves’ dark hair, watching him adoringly as he bent to press a kiss right over Newt’s pounding heart.

‘What about you?’ Newt asked, his voice still a little breathless, languid and slightly slurred from the intensity of his orgasm.

‘Mmm,’ Graves murmured, sitting back up. ‘I think I could come just from looking at you right now, baby. So satisfied and messy.’ He ran a possessive hand down Newt’s torso, stroking over the tattoo on his ribs and guiding his hand down into the creamy heat of his inner thigh, reaching his thumb to pull open Newt’s wet, loosened ass. ‘Will you show me?’ he asked softly, tenderly. ‘Let me see what I did to you?’

Newt obediently hugged his knees up to his chest and reached down with both hands to spread himself open, pink hole still glistening and twitching gently at the cool air. Graves groaned, yanking his waistband down below his balls and revealing his thick, neglected cock, drooling and sticky with pre-cum. ‘That’s it, baby. You are so gorgeous. Tell me, did it feel good? Having my tongue up your ass?’ His hand was still slick with lube from fingering Newt earlier, and he now worked it over his cock carefully, visibly refraining from just jerking it hard until he came, waiting to hear Newt’s answer.

‘Oh, yes,’ whispered Newt, ‘It felt so good I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt so exposed, licked open and devoured. You ate all of me right up, and I loved it. I couldn’t think about anything but how well you were taking care of me.’

Graves shuddered and grunted, his hips jolting forward and his hand desperately working his prick faster and angling it toward Newt’s proffered ass, hot ropes of semen painting a mess of pearly white across the pale cheeks and the reddened, glistening cleft with its puffy well-licked hole.

Credence, his arm cramping from the ache of his drawn out masturbation session, came so hard he blacked out for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew.
> 
> Okay. So, Credence's self-repression is melting away rapidly. Along with my sense of shame. Did you know writing smut is an incredibly potent method of stress relief?
> 
> I want to heartily thank those of you who are reading this, and who have left kudos and comments. Your support is much appreciated, and I am so glad you're enjoying the story. The next chapter should go up some time tomorrow, as soon as I finish proof reading.


	5. Upward Facing Dog

Work on Saturday was a welcome distraction, much as it had been the week before. This time, however, Credence only felt a slight flicker of embarrassment at his unashamed use of his two friends in his dirty fantasy; it had been far too satisfying and hot for him to really regret it, and he had worked his way past the point where he was worried about someone finding out.

Instead, he had the opposite problem. Rather than cringing away from the memory of his nighttime imaginings, Credence found it difficult to think about anything else. He caught himself zoning out over breakfast to thoughts of Graves’ tongue flicking playfully over Newt’s skin, startled back into awareness when Tina asked him to pass the milk. During the car ride to work, he was distracted and antsy, an itch under his skin, longing to delve back into the fantasy and wring himself out all over again.

Hence the need for a distraction. Work, thankfully, was busy, his mind kept occupied by the detailed task of decorating the pastries, grateful for the intricacy of the job and the way it prevented him from just stewing in horniness. The boiling ardor in his blood seemed to cool after an hour or so of focus, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he sat down to eat his lunch and found that he had not had a single stray thought about Newt’s tight, perfect ass in the past hour and a half.

He headed out into the cool of the front of the shop after he had devoured his sandwich, taking his turn at the cash register and slipping easily into the routine of bagging up the warm pastries in crinkling paper, counting bills and smiling politely at the customers, his fantasies sufficiently under control.

Of course, that was when Graves walked in.

Credence was bending to straighten the remaining few chocolate moose in the display, relishing the quiet of the momentarily empty shop, when he heard the tinkle of the bell. The afternoon had left him in a good mood, if a little restless, so he was already smiling as he straightened up, ready to greet another customer and help them with their purchase. His eyes widened and his cheeks flamed with a blush as he saw Graves opposite him, grinning warmly, looking unfairly handsome in his elegant dark coat, innocent of the fact that Credence now couldn’t seem to look at the man’s mouth without imagining it pressed intimately against Newt’s groin. 

“So this is the famous bakery” Graves said easily, leaning against the counter and taking in the display of pastries with an impressed nod before returning his gaze to Credence. “It’s wonderful, Credence.” His voice was soft and sincere, his eyes intent on Credence’s face and somehow not at all put off by the fact that he was flushed red as a tomato.

With some effort, Credence gathered the tattered remains of his composure back together and shoved aside the image of Graves’ tongue spearing into Newt’s asshole, taking a deep breath and managing to say, somewhat incoherently, “Thank you… You came… I mean, you’re here! Thank you for coming,” squashing down the mortifying part of his mind that was unhelpfully supplying a mental picture of pearly stripes of semen painting Newt’s skin. “Um. Would you like to taste anything? A… A sample?” Crap. Was there nothing he could say right now that wasn’t a direct reminder of his inappropriate mental roleplay? He was just going to have to resign himself to blushing for the duration of this visit.

Graves had his elbow propped on the counter and an expression of soft delight on his face, as if Credence’s flustered greeting was a wonderful surprise. He raised an eyebrow pleasantly. “I’d be happy with anything you recommend.” Had his voice always been so low and rich, smooth like hot chocolate? 

For a moment Credence was just standing there, still a little dazed, and he saw Graves' brow furrow slightly. “I hope it’s alright I just showed up like this. I don’t mean to bother you while you’re working.” 

That jolted Credence out of his stupor and he quickly bent to pull out a chili chocolate dragon from the case, hurriedly reassuring him at the same time, baffled why he thought his presence would ever be a bother. “Of course it’s alright! I’m glad you came in. I’m… sorry if I seem a little out of it, the… the steam in the back sometimes makes me a little dizzy.” There. It was not exactly a lie, just not the real cause of his wildly flushed state, but Graves seemed to relax at his words.

“Oh, I see,” he said, a soft look of amusement playing at the corner of his mouth. “Good thing you’re out here now. It smells wonderful, though, whatever is baking back there.” Graves propped his chin in his hand while he watched Credence’s gloved fingers gripping the metal tongs as he set the dragon on the counter on top of a paper bag with the shop logo on it.

“That’ll be the molasses bears in the oven,” Credence murmured shyly, remembering Newt’s kind words about them from the previous week. “They’re one of our bestsellers, along with these chili chocolate dragons.” He carefully slid the pastry across the counter toward Graves, who bent eagerly to examine it.

“Credence, this looks amazing. This is one of the designs you helped plan out, right? You said something about adding spicy pepper at the end?” He was running one gentle finger over the ridges of the wings and the glossy line of the stylized tempered chocolate scales running down the dragon’s back.

Credence was delighted that he had remembered. “Yes! Exactly. I thought… the heat would be the perfect accent. You know, since it’s a dragon.” He bit his lip. “And Jacob said it transforms the flavor from nice to exquisite,” he added in a mumble, a bashful smile tugging its way helplessly across his face.

There was something unguardedly soft in Graves’ expression as he looked up at Credence, a rare vulnerability that made him look very young. “Amazing,” he breathed, his eyes not on the dragon but on Credence’s smile. He flicked his gaze back down at the little chocolate pastry figure, looking hesitant. “I want to taste it but I hate to ruin your work,” he said quietly.

Credence huffed a laugh, pulling off one glove and leaning over the counter to gently take one wing between his fingers. “Would you rather I did it?” he asked, watching Graves’ eyes darken as he nodded, carefully tearing off the wing and holding it out in offering. Instead of taking it from Credence’s hand, however, Graves simply wrapped one broad palm around his wrist to hold it steady and bent to take it between his white teeth, soft pink lips just barely grazing the edge of Credence’s thumb. He watched dumbfounded as Graves chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, his hand still wrapped loosely over the rapid pulse in Credence’s wrist and his eyes widening in pleasure at the flavor. 

“Wow. That is so good. You really are a genius, Credence. I should bring a whole box of these to the office tomorrow; maybe some sweetness would make our meeting less of a shitfest. I think a dozen should be enough.”

Credence’s mouth fell open, flattered, his pulse still racing under Graves’ fingers. Graves thumb was distractedly drawing circles on the sensitive skin of his inner wrist while the man took another bite of the pastry, and he felt somewhat hesitant to move away to get a box for the rest. “You have to work on a Sunday?” he found himself asking in dismay, voice a little bit breathier than usual. “That’s too bad.”

Graves smiled at him fondly, licking a bit of chocolate off of his lip. “Unfortunately, yes. Emergency board meeting. Very important. I’m used to it,” he said dryly, and then with quiet tenderness, “But it means a lot to hear you say so.” Reluctantly, it seemed, he let go of Credence’s wrist to reach into his back pocket for his wallet, and Credence shook off the slow hypnosis that had resulted from his caress and hurried to pull out a cardboard box.

“Do you want all dragons, or a variety?” Credence asked, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear that had escaped from his bun and watching Graves’ eyes track the movement of his hand. He realized abruptly that he hadn’t worried at all about the scars on his palm the entire time he was holding out the dragon wing for the man to take, and Graves hadn’t once tried to sneak a closer look, not even when he had been holding Credence’s wrist captive and it would’ve been easy to coax his fingers open without Credence really noticing. He felt a sort of tingling warmth blooming in his stomach as he pulled his glove back on, biting his lip as Graves peered down into the case.

“Hmm. If I get a variety I’ll be tempted to eat them all myself to try the different flavors. But the same will be true of the dragons, anyway,” he chuckled. “Why don’t you give me a couple of each of your favorites, and I’ll just have to control myself until tomorrow morning.” He pulled out a shiny credit card and slid it across the counter while Credence carefully nestled three each of the dragons, the bears, the yetis and the moose into the paper-lined box, sliding the lid closed and then bagging up the remainder of the now-wingless dragon and setting it on top.

“Oh, yes, don’t forget to charge me for that first one,” Graves said as Credence entered his total on the cash register, but Credence shook his head.

“No, that one’s on the house,” he said with a shy grin, and when Graves looked almost like he might protest, he added playfully, “I insist. It’s a special perk of being friends with the co-creator of that particular pastry that you get one for free. Like a present.” He gave Graves a mock-stern look. “Are you turning down my present?”

Graves raised his hands in surrender, lips twitching in a grin. “I’d never dream of it.”

Credence slid the receipt over for Graves to sign, noting that his signature was as elegant and bold as the rest of him, before tying the box closed with a loop of twine for easier carrying. Graves was winding a soft-looking grey scarf around his neck and buttoning up his long dark coat, his brown eyes warm as he hefted the box in his arms. 

“I hope your meeting goes well. Let me know how they like the pastries,” Credence said, still a little breathless. He felt inexplicably wistful that Graves would be eating them without him, and he wouldn’t get to watch the man’s face as he tried the other flavors for the first time. Perhaps it was because he’d been seeing him every day this week, but he found the prospect of spending Sunday without any dose of his company rather cold and dreary. 

The fondness in Graves’ smile, however, warmed him back up. “I appreciate it. And I am sure they will be very well received, not that the pompous assholes I work with deserve such a wonderful treat, made by such talented hands.” Credence blushed at the praise. “I will be looking forward to Monday the whole time,” Graves added softly. “Do you get the day off tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Sunday and Monday are my weekend,” Credence explained. He liked it that way, actually. It felt like Mondays belonged to him alone, when he could relax at home with everybody else at work.

“Oh yeah?” Graves asked, apparently in no hurry to leave. “Any exciting plans?”

“Um. Well, I used to always go to church with my sisters. But I… I’m not going this week. So… probably just homework, and maybe some TV?” He wished he had something more exciting to tell him. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he would do with all the free time. His sisters had too much going on after church tomorrow to spend time with him, and Queenie usually was working in her studio. Tina liked to watch confusing martial arts movies in her pajamas on her day off, so Credence would probably settle in for a few hours of elegantly choreographed fight scenes and hard-to-follow storylines while he dozed against her shoulder. Then in the evening she usually practiced her guitar while he studied for class.

Graves’ eyes had widened. “Church, huh? Shoot, I uh… I haven’t really been keeping my language clean, have I? I hope I didn’t offend–”

“No,” Credence interrupted, desperate to make this clear, “no, it’s… That’s fine. Swearing doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to change anything about yourself.” He wondered if he could put into words how much he liked the way Graves talked, obscenities and all, bold and confident. “It’s… refreshing, actually.” He swallowed, then added carefully, “I grew up in a very strict household.” Graves was watching him intently, patient and quiet, and somehow Credence dared to tell him more. “I’m still… getting used to the freedom of doing and saying some of the things I was always told were wrong. Accepting… things… things about myself that I was told were wrong, too,” he breathed, drawn into the gentle warmth of Graves’ brown eyes, the words falling with a wonderful sense of clarity from his lips. “I am still working on it. All of it. But I have no problem with anything you’ve said. You have already helped me more than you know, and everything about you is the opposite of offensive, to me.” Credence nervously bit the inside of his cheek. It was a bit sappy and clumsily worded, but his sentiment was completely honest. 

Graves actually appeared to be a bit stunned. “I’m…” he rasped, then cleared his throat. “I’m so glad to hear that.” He looked unsure what to say next, his dark eyes layered with an intense mix of several emotions that Credence couldn’t quite untangle. “Everything of mine,” he said finally, voice still slightly hoarse, “or… any part of me that is of any help to you… is at your disposal, Credence, whenever you want it. I hope you know that. I’m… I’m at your service. Alright?”

Now it was Credence’s turn to be astonished. In a daze, he nodded, and Graves’ smile in response was all soft emotion and naked vulnerability. “Good,” the man whispered, reaching back across the counter for the briefest squeeze of Credence’s hand, glove and all, before he withdrew again and stepped away just as the door bell rang behind him. Credence, still feeling slightly lost, saw a family enter the bakery at the same time as he realized Graves had pressed something into his hand, but then the customers were stepping up to the counter and Credence slipped the bit of paper into his pocket to ring them up, and by the time he glanced up from their order Graves was gone.

Later, when it was four o’clock and he was gathering his things in the back, he carefully slid the small rectangle of glossy cardstock out of his pocket. _Percival E. Graves_ , it read, _Director of Security Assessment, MACUSA Consultation Firm_. And there was his cell phone number and email in shining silver print.

 _I’m at your service_. The soft echo of Graves’ voice sounded in his head, making him feel like he had just eaten chili and chocolate together for the first time, something spicy sweet rushing through his veins and warming him from the inside out.

The memory continued to warm him for the rest of the day, his session with Juliet passing easily as he told her about going running with Graves and opening up to him a little bit, which prompted a cheer and a triumphant squeeze of his shoulder. Later that night, he tucked the card into his wallet, just in case, although Graves’ information was already carefully programmed into his phone under a brand new contact, joining his cousins, his sisters, Juliet, and Jacob on the very short list of people in his address book.

This was the sort of thing friends did. Close friends, friends who wanted to be available to support one another if there ever was a need. Somehow, Credence had earned himself Graves’ friendship and affection, and that thought was just as infinitely wonderful as the feeling he got when Newt smiled at him.

He dreamt that night of being curled up in someone’s strong arms, one broad hand wrapped gently around his wrist as soft lips brushed against his fingertips and pressed kisses over the scars across his palm, another set of fingers carding though his hair and surrounding him in the scent of eucalyptus and mint. 

It was the most beautiful dream he’d had in a long time.

\--

Sunday felt odd. Credence woke early as usual, but had no particular need to get up or get ready for church. He lounged in bed as Queenie moved around the kitchen, humming and making breakfast, until his growling stomach dragged him out from under the covers to join her. He set the couch back to rights and pulled on a shirt before wandering into the kitchen, Queenie immediately handing him a cutting board and some bell peppers for an omelet. The smell of eggs, peppers, cheese, onion, and mushroom soon wafted tantalizingly from the stove, luring a groggy Tina out of her room as well. 

“What are you gonna do today, Bambi?” Queenie asked, after they had devoured their breakfast.

Credence felt strangely restless, all of a sudden. The prospect of sitting at home and watching movies just didn’t appeal anymore, not right now. He had the golden opportunity of a liberated day to do something unusual and bold, something that would make Juliet smile when he told her about it, something that would continue to push Credence along his path toward becoming more himself. Something on par with the high opinion Graves seemed to have of him, that would sound suitably interesting when he retold how his weekend had gone. 

With his newfound confidence, he said, “Maybe I will come to the studio with you.”

Queenie’s mouth dropped open and her eyes lit up. She had been trying to get Credence to come visit for a long time now, but he’d cringed away from the idea of meeting all the other artists who shared her studio. He had always assumed they would be intimidating and fashionable and beautiful, and would look down their noses at Credence, just like the popular kids in his school always had growing up, taking one look at his shabby clothes, his awkward slouch and choppy haircut and calling him a freak. He was much more confident now, of course, and he was working on feeling pride in his own appearance and self-expression, but the subconscious habit of guarding his heart against rejection was a fiendishly hard one to break.

“You really want to?” Queenie asked in delight, looking like she was barely refraining from bouncing in her seat.

“Yeah, I think it’s time I came to see what you do all day,” he said with a soft teasing grin, and then Queenie was giggling and kissing him on the cheek.

“Oh, Bambi, I can’t wait to show you! Ooh, and I can have you try on your costume for a fitting, if you are up for it. It’s basically done! And Tori will be in today with Newt, too.”

For a moment those words bounced meaninglessly against his ears, and then abruptly Credence felt cold. “What?”

Tina paused, mug of tea halfway to her mouth. “Newt? Isn’t that…”

“The yoga teacher,” chirped Queenie, “Credence, you know him! So you’ll have two people you already know when we get there.”

Tina put her mug down. “Yes, but… Queenie, why is Newt going to be there?” she was glancing at Credence in concern. “Is he dating Tori?”

Queenie took in her sister’s serious expression and the way Credence wasn’t meeting her eyes. “Oh,” she said softly, “I don’t know. They seem like they are just friends, but you know me, I don’t like to assume. She’s brought him with her a couple times now, but they’ve mostly just been talking about one of her projects and they’ve never done anything in front of me that would make it seem otherwise. Creedy, are you… is Newt the one you’ve been sighing over? I’m sorry, I thought it was the older guy.”

“What older guy?” asked Tina immediately, her head snapping to look at Credence.

Flabbergasted, Credence opened his mouth and fumbled for something to say, but Queenie beat him to it.

“The one he’s been running with, who he’s never mentioned and we have conveniently never met,” she said blithely, her eyes narrowed in curiosity. “I only know ‘cause I heard a couple of ladies in the locker rooms gossiping about him. Apparently they were drooling over this guy’s muscles and his smoldering good looks, but he only had eyes for some sweet kid with a ponytail who’s in his yoga class and also seems to be his running buddy. Sound familiar, Bambi?” she asked casually.

Credence blushed. Dang it, Queenie could be so perceptive sometimes it was almost uncanny. Tina’s eyes were still on him, her tea forgotten. “Well, who is this guy and why haven’t we met him? Is… is he a lot older than you? You’re sure you’re okay with that?”

“Whoa, stop,” Credence gasped. “First of all, I haven’t been hiding him from you, we only just started running together this week. I ended up next to him in yoga class because we were both beginners the first day, and he was really nice, and we are just friends. That’s it. Not that he isn’t good looking, but I’m… I really… I just can’t stop thinking about Newt.”

Queenie made a sympathetic face and Tina’s eyes softened. Actually, if Newt hadn’t caught his attention, he probably would be very interested in Graves. Even as it stood now, he was quite attracted to him. His kindness, his wit, his smile, they all sent butterflies rushing through Credence’s stomach. But then he thought of Newt, and it felt like being ripped in half trying to imagine shutting off his feelings for him, or having to choose between them. It was almost better that those two just end up together and let Credence remain whole, even if that whole was lonely and sad.

He must have looked slightly miserable, because Tina reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. He huffed. “He’s not that old, either. He’s probably the same age as you, Tina,” he added petulantly.

She snorted. “Oh, thanks.”

“What? You’re not old! Isn’t that what I just said?” he spluttered in panic as she burst into laughter and mussed his hair some more.

“I’m just messing with you, Bambi,” she murmured as she rose from her seat to kiss him on the head, scooping up her mug of tea as she went. “If you like this guy as a friend, then good. I’m happy you have someone to run with. Just make sure he knows that’s all that’s going on, okay? If he ever starts to pressure you or anything, you know I can kick his ass for you, right?”

“Tina!” Credence squeaked, mortified. “He would never do that, okay? He’s… chivalrous, alright? Plus, I’m sure he doesn’t… He said he was interested in Newt, too,” he finished pathetically.

“Creedy, a person’s interest can change,” Queenie said gently from across the table, rising to clear her dishes and follow Tina into the kitchen. “But you would know better than us whether this guy is sending you any signals, right?” She sent him a grin and a wink over her shoulder.

Credence goggled at her retreating back. Would he, though? It honestly hadn’t occurred to him that Graves might actually be flirting with him. All of his playful comments had seemed friendly at the time, but what if he had serious intentions, what if he had been trying to feel out Credence’s interest? He could be doing the same thing Queenie had suggested to Tina regarding the woman in her class: get to know her better in the hopes she would return Tina’s feelings. The whole point of it was that if the feelings were not reciprocated, they could still be friends. 

Well. If that was what Graves was doing, Credence was grateful for his considerate approach; he was certainly not pressuring Credence into anything, so if it was a courtship, it was the gentlest kind imaginable. Which was probably good, considering Credence had never been in a relationship before.

But the next moment, the very idea seemed preposterous. Someone as impressive as Graves would never be interested like that in Credence! He probably liked inspiring people who were experienced in life, who were highly educated, an expert in their field, someone incredibly good looking and well-dressed, with their own confident style to match Graves himself. Someone like Newt, with whom he could have adorable witty discussions about dolphin sex.

But if Newt was dating Tori, Graves wouldn’t get the chance to have all that with him, and that would be a shame.

Suddenly, it seemed imperative that Credence go with Queenie to the studio today in an attempt to gauge what was going on with Newt and Tori. Sure, it would be painful to watch them together, his stomach already feeling hot with jealousy at the thought, but he needed to know for sure. For Graves. And maybe for himself, to try and put this infatuation to rest.

Thus resolved, he quickly hurried after his cousins into the kitchen to help scrub the dishes before heading to the hall closet to agonize over what to wear. Queenie caught him with three shirts in each hand, paralyzed with indecision and ready to tear his whole wardrobe out to try on all of it, her hands gentle as she tugged one of the options from his grasp.

“This one,” she said firmly, “with those jeans that make your legs go on for miles. Trust me.” 

The shirt was black and had a detailed drawing of an octopus on it in white, its undulating legs curling out toward the edges of the fabric over the words ‘Free Hugs,’ which Credence and Queenie had thought was hilarious when she bought it for him at the aquarium gift shop. Now, Credence wasn’t so sure. Would it seem like a desperate attempt to get Newt to hug him? He did like animals, though, so perhaps at least it would be conversation starter. And Queenie was a fashion designer, so he was probably best served by following her advice. 

Sighing, he grabbed the jeans, a comfortably faded grey pair that he’d gotten from the thrift store, and headed off to change in the bathroom, deciding at the last minute to just brush his hair and leave it down, falling in a soft wave nearly to his shoulders; it was getting longer than Tina and Queenie’s now, thick and dark and glossy.

When they pulled up to the studio in the car, Credence caught himself nervously jiggling his leg and forced himself to stop, his hands clutching the strap of his laptop bag anxiously. Queenie had told him he could just do homework in her workspace if he wanted, or he could help her with what she was doing and meet some of the other artists.

“Remember, honey, they won’t bite,” she said quietly as they got out of the car, linking her arm with his around the soft material of his hoodie. “There’s usually just four of us in on Sunday, five if you count Newt, and they’ll all be working on different projects. It’s just me and Tori on our side of the hall today, and she’s been doing a big photo series for an upcoming exhibition, which she’d be happy to tell you about. If you want to,” she added, squeezing his arm.

The studio was a bit drafty and smelled like paint, one long central hallway opening off onto little rooms, each one full of some assortment of projects and art materials. They passed a workspace where a petite man with messy dark hair and glasses was busily painting some sort of partially abstract portrait of a guy without a nose on a large stretched canvas. His brush strokes were almost violent in their intensity, and the cold pale white-blues of the man’s skin in the portrait seemed to glow eerily, his eyes almost reptilian. The whole effect was quite striking and made Credence madly curious who he was painting and why, but the artist had earbuds in and seemed to be completely absorbed, so they continued on without interrupting him.

In the next cubicle, a woman with long grey curly hair cascading from a messy bun was painting as well, but her work was on a tidy piece of watercolor paper taped to a board, a collage of reference photos on the wall in front of her. The brush in her hand was tiny in comparison to the one the man next door had been using, and she was filling in the details of some sort of fantasy landscape scene, her little brush-strokes ticking in a patch of dark trees under a row of distant mountains. She looked up when they entered, smile lines creasing around her eyes.

“Oh, Queenie, good morning! And who is this?” She carefully rinsed off her brush before rising from the worktable, offering her hand to Credence, who shook it politely, hoping she wouldn’t notice his scars.

“This is my cousin Credence!” Queenie exclaimed. “I’ve been looking forward so much to showing him your work, Andy. He loves fantasy worlds in books, so I think he’d love to see what you do, if you have a minute.”

The woman, Andy, had callouses on her palm and didn’t bat an eyelash at the raised lines on his skin. “Pleased to meet you, Credence. I’m Andromeda, and I’m working on a project right now with a video game designer to create the background artwork for a game. You want to see?”

Credence’s mouth fell open a bit and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, ma’am. That sounds like an incredible project.” What an amazing job to have, to create a beautiful world with your own two hands for other people to enjoy and lose themselves in. He leaned eagerly over her shoulder as she showed him the computer set up next to her painting table, where she edited the images after they were scanned and layered them in with the rest of the game design. The storyline sounded interesting, too; the player was controlling a wizard character who had lost some of his magical animals and was searching throughout the elaborate high-fantasy world to find them, while battling several dangers at the same time. Credence couldn’t help but notice that the wizard’s curly red hair made him look a bit like Newt, the little figure endearingly cute but fiercely protective of his creatures.

After extracting a promise that she would tell them when the game was released so they could buy a copy, Queenie and Credence reluctantly let her get back to work and slipped into an open door at the end of the hall on the other side. They passed a closed door on the way with ‘Tori’ painted on it, so she must not be in yet.

“This is me!” Queenie said, happily throwing her arms out wide as they stepped into the final room, and Credence looked around in amazement. Queenie’s workspace was partly taken up with several large bins of fabric that stacked up in one corner next to a row of dress forms with mostly-finished projects pinned on them. There was an ironing board tucked behind a rack of completed work along the other side, an extensive mosaic of sketches and magazine cutouts creeping across the walls, and a large worktable in the center of the room with Queenie’s gleaming, well cared-for sewing machine.

“Queens, it’s magical in here,” Credence said honestly, running gentle fingers over the rack of finished clothes, blouses and dresses and jackets and some sort of interesting skintight jumpsuit. “It’s incredible that you are able to take that,” he said, pointing at the bins of fabric, “and turn it into this.” He was now staring at the garment on one of the dress forms, a fitted sleeveless white tunic with an interesting asymmetrical laced-up collar. The fabric was glittering with subtle details of silver thread that made it seem to be woven partially out of starlight, or something equally fantastical, and there was an incredible crown of silver-painted leaves sitting on top of the dress form, with what appeared to be antlers sprouting from the top.

“You like it?” Queenie asked softly, coming over to slide the garment off the form, her impeccable work showing in the neatness of the seams and the way the zipper almost couldn’t be seen when it was closed. “Want to try it on?”

Credence could barely breathe. “You mean… This is…?”

“Your costume,” Queenie confirmed, “if you like it. Don’t worry, Bambi, I have a cloak and some leggings for you too. Can’t be getting cold, even if you are the prince of the forest.” She was holding out a half-mask, as well, bone-white and slightly glittery, with a thin elastic strap in the back. 

“Wha…” Credence was speechless. It was beautiful, the way she had adapted a childhood idea into something completely different and adult, her deft hands creating something that was perfect for Halloween. There was something in the shape of the mask that looked ever so slightly menacing, a delicate beauty that was cold and intimidating, the hollows for the eyes and the jut of the cheekbones skeletal in appearance. He would be a woodland ghost, a faerie stag from some other world, bringing frost in his wake and wandering the winter forest in the night. 

“Queenie… I… Thank you,” he breathed finally, and she beamed at him.

“Of course, honey. I’ve had this idea playing in my mind ever since last Halloween! Like a forest sprite or a faerie, all in white. I knew you’d look positively angelic in it. And then we can add the mask and some make-up to help it start to look a little less innocent and a little more scary. ‘Cause why not! That’s the fun of Halloween.” She waved her hand at the worktable, and he saw that she had laid out a set of makeup brushes and what looked like a delicate bit of lace that she’d turned into a necklace, the sheen of the thread and the tiny pearly white beads in the detailing making it look like a spreading formation of frost on the table, icy and glittering and intricate.

Eyes wide, Credence allowed her to close the studio door and nudge him behind a folding screen to change into his tunic, which fell to mid-thigh and made him feel rather cold and exposed until she tossed him a pair of silky leggings made of a silver fabric that hugged his legs far tighter than any pair of yoga pants. Bashfully, he crept out from behind the screen to Queenie’s excited squeals, her hands eagerly checking the fit across his chest to make sure she had the seams measured perfectly.

“Now, I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’ll actually be glad I didn’t put sleeves on this thing when we get to the party. Their house stays plenty warm, unlike this studio,” she said wryly, “and I ended up sweating through my costume last year. No fun,” she added firmly, bending over to fish out a pair of boots from under the table that had been painted glimmering silver. “Here, put these on.”

Credence tugged on the boots, unsurprised to find that she had made sure they were the right size. “Queenie,” he said softly, “you didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me. How much did the boots cost, let me at least pay you back for them.”

She flapped a hand at him distractedly from where she was digging through her purse now, emerging with a bottle of silver nail polish. “No, no, Bambi, you know this is just as much fun for me as it is for you. I get to practice my design process, with the perfect excuse to think outside what I usually do, and the prettiest model in the world to wear my clothes. Really, you’re doing me a favor.”

Credence huffed at her exaggeration but grinned as he allowed himself to be towed into a chair so she could fuss with his hair and clip the frosty white necklace around his throat, where tiny pearlescent beads hung down from the bottom and tickled his collarbone. The alien presence around his neck made him feel already like he was slipping into someone else’s skin, holding his head straighter and wondering what Ma would think if she saw him now. He imagined that he really was a faerie, or someone with magic powers just as dangerous and wild as any of the fantasy creatures in the books he read, someone who could smite her with a swirling cloud of dark magic. The idea was only appealing in idleness; he did not wish her dead, but he did crave the finality of showing her once and for all that her power over him was broken.

Queenie hummed happily as she pulled out a tube of mascara and a palette of dark smoky eyeshadow. “You mind if we try the whole look today? Then you can decide if you want to change anything for next weekend. And maybe I can take a shot of you in Tori’s studio to go in my portfolio. Up to you, though, honey.”

Swallowing hard, Credence nodded. If he was going to see Newt and Tori together, he might as well be wearing this. At least his jealousy would be hidden behind the mask.

He submitted himself to Queenie’s ministrations, her gentle hands tipping his chin up to apply his makeup, the soft swish of the brushes across his skin relaxingly hypnotic. When she was finished, he sat there in a peaceful stupor as she painted his nails, somehow managing not to get any polish up on his cuticles like he always did. He sat there blowing on his fingertips as she went to fetch the mask and the antlers, settling them on his head and then stepping back to survey her work, a giddy grin building on her face.

“I’m guessing that means I look alright?” Credence asked cheekily.

“Oh, you’ll do,” she teased back casually before breaking out into delighted giggles and clasping her hands under her chin. “You look phenomenal, Bambi. Like something out of one of those dark fairy tales where you aren’t really sure if the spirits are there to help you find your way home, or to kidnap you and take you into their world forever.

Credence grinned around the unfamiliar feel of lipstick on his mouth and rose hesitantly to slip over to the full-length mirror in the corner. A stranger looked back at him with huge dark eyes in an alien white face, beautiful and bony and glittering, lips a pale frost-bitten silvery blue and his head crowned with antlers. His throat looked like it was coated with ice, dripping down his neck between the glossy fall of his hair. The tunic draped itself over his torso in a gleaming swath of white, closely hugging the slender line of his body and emphasizing the narrowness of his waist, the leanness of his hips in comparison to the breadth of his shoulders. The whole effect made him feel delicate and powerful, cold and harsh and pure. It was wonderful.

He turned to Queenie and opened his mouth to say how incredible it all was, but found he wasn’t sure how to put it into words. She must have seen it on his face anyway, despite the makeup and the mask, because she just beamed at him, pulling out her phone and holding it up in question. He nodded, knowing that she would want to send a picture to Tina, and let her tug him into the best light.

“We’ll do a professional one with Tori in a minute, I’m just too excited to wait to show Teenie! Here, I’ll send it to you too.”

After she had fiddled with her phone for a minute they did another one with the cloak, a cozy white fleecy thing that felt like being enveloped in a hug and warmed up the cold skin of his arms. She was just showing him how he could clasp it over one shoulder with an ornate silver pin if he wanted to still have an arm free when there was a knock at the closed door.

“Queens, you in there?” It sounded like Tori, her melodic voice slightly frustrated. “I’ve accidentally torn the zipper on Newt’s dress and I don’t want him to get cold while I clumsily hand-sew it. You have a minute to fix it?”

Credence froze, the questions slowly welling up in his brain. Newt’s dress? Apparently Newt had a dress, which in and of itself was incredibly intriguing, but why would Tori have torn it? Were they… was it… during sex? But that didn’t seem likely here in the studio. Credence realized he was being ridiculous, far too fixated on feeding his jealousy. He needed to _cool it with the assumptions_ , as Queenie would say.

His cousin sent him a quick wide-eyed look to make sure he was okay with her opening the door, and when he nodded she called out. “Come on in, honey. No problem.”

Tori immediately slipped inside, a silky peacock blue gown of some kind draped over her arm, and her jaw dropped when she saw Credence. “Oh… Holy shit, you look amazing.” Credence was trying to contain his smile while Queenie giggled and fussed with the cloak pin. Tori stepped closer to get a better look, but Credence was distracted by a beautiful vision in the doorway.

Newt had appeared, wearing a dressing gown, the pale pink material making his skin look incredibly soft. He was wearing a wig that matched his real hair color perfectly, a short red bob with loose waves tucked back behind one ear and brushing softly against his jaw on the other side. His eyes were wide and so, so green, delicately made up with a touch of smoky eyeshadow and a coat of mascara, and his lips were very red and more tempting than anything Credence had ever seen.

There was a stunned moment where the two of them just stared at each other, and Credence felt like he had wandered into a dream as he watched Newt’s lips part in wonder and his face grow unmistakably pink. Had he… no, he hadn’t imagined it. Newt was looking at him, drinking in the sight of him, and he was blushing. What did that mean? Was he attracted to Credence, or was he attracted to the concept of the image he presented in the costume? Credence was sure he was blushing, too, as he usually was when looking at Newt, but for once he also felt a tendril of daring curling through his chest. He was wearing this amazing mask and outfit, and right now he was not the same Credence who was afraid to talk to people he desperately wanted to impress. 

He was not afraid.

“Newt, you are so beautiful,” he said simply, the words finally coming out that had been hiding under his tongue for the last week and a half, and he marveled at how easily they fell from his lips and how calm and confident his voice sounded. Was this what it was like to be someone like Graves, who never seemed to second-guess what he was saying? Unless it was to make sure he hadn’t offended Credence, of course.

Newt’s red lips were still parted in amazement, his eyelashes dark and fluttering as he received the compliment with a soft bashful smile growing at the corner of his mouth. He looked like he was on the edge of saying something, but he wasn’t sure how to find the words.

“Oh, my,” Queenie breathed, finally catching sight of him in the doorway. “Very beautiful.”

Newt looked down shyly for a moment, a glow suffusing his face as he murmured, “Oh… Thank you. But the make-up is all Tori’s work.”

Credence felt his brow furrow slightly. Was he blind? Sure, Tori had brought out his features, but he was beautiful every single day, sweaty and rumpled from yoga or pink-cheeked from the cold, no matter what he was wearing. Did Newt not realize that?

Tori seemed to agree with him. “Nonsense,” she said fondly, bustling over to the table to Queenie’s sewing machine. “Newt, you’re drop dead gorgeous already. I keep telling you, all I’m doing is just a tiny bonus on top of what you’ve already got going on. I knew as soon as I saw those freckles and that smile that the camera would love you, and then the back tattoo was just perfect on top of that. I’m so glad you were willing to let me photograph you.” She was carefully sliding the silky fabric of the dress through Queenie’s sewing machine, sending them a grin over her shoulder. “Newt’s modeling for me for the series I told you about, Queens. For the show at the gallery next month. I’m doing a series of portraits exploring androgynous beauty and fashion,” she explained, sending Credence an appraising glance. “Actually, Credence, you would fit right in, if you were interested.”

Credence’s heart was pounding, and he felt like he was lifting off the floor. So, all this time, Tori’s fixation on Newt had only been artistic? He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he remembered that conversation from the week before last, when Tina had said, ‘she kept going on about his freckles and his tattoo.’ Was it just because he was the perfect muse for her project? Well, perhaps it was possible to be interested in both the man and his artistic potential. He still didn’t know what was going on between them, but this project sounded fascinating and it would be a good way to find out more.

So, completely out of character, he found himself saying, “Sure, I’d love to,” which prompted an excited whoop from Tori and a soft look of surprise from Queenie. Newt was still staring at him as if he’d never seen anything quite like him before, drifting closer as Queenie went to help Tori tie off the thread at the end of her repaired seam.

“So that’s really you under there, Credence?” Newt asked softly, one hand coming out to run over the incredibly soft material of Credence’s cloak. “What is this for? A design series? It’s so… You look a bit like the Horned God, only… so cold and lovely too, like an angel.”

Credence could barely breathe as Newt’s fingers brushed against the crisp frosty lace at his throat. Up close, he could see the individual freckles on Newt’s cheeks, the spot where his mascara had left a soft smudge of grey under his eye, and the flecks of gold in the green of his irises. He smelled like eucalyptus and mint, and a bit of Tori’s perfume that seemed to be coming from the dressing gown. Credence abruptly realized that they were almost exactly the same height, Credence a scant inch taller by virtue of wearing boots while Newt’s delicate feet were bare on the cold floor.

He swallowed, with some effort, and replied, “It’s for Halloween, officially. But I think Queenie enjoys the design challenge too. She’s going to put it in her portfolio,” he said, proud of his cousin’s incredible skill.

Newt’s face lit up in a smile. “Oh, I can see why. It looks so wonderful on you, Credence. Anything would. She has a beautiful canvas to work with.” Before Credence’s heart could catch up after those words, Newt went on. “Will you be at Tori’s this Saturday for Halloween? It would be a relief to know I will recognize somebody. I’m a bit of a wallflower in crowds of strangers, at least when I don’t have teaching to focus on to distract me from my nerves. But if you’re there, I can stick with you!” And he sent Credence a smile so beautiful he thought he might fall over.

“Y-Yes,” Credence managed to stammer. “I will be there. You can… come find me… any time.”

“Oh, good! I’m looking forward to it,” Newt said sincerely, and then suddenly Tori seemed to be done with the dress and they were all heading out into the hallway and Credence was following close behind Newt in a daze, nearly hitting his antlers on the frame of the door. When they had all filed into Tori’s studio space, Queenie’s hand was on his shoulder for a moment, and he turned a little wildly to meet her questioning stare.

“You okay with being photographed today?” she asked, quietly enough that nobody else would hear. 

Credence swallowed. It was complicated. He didn’t like feeling exposed or in the spotlight, and he hated attention from strangers. It always made him feel anxious, unsure and inadequate. But this was different. Tori was not a stranger anymore, and she seemed to be interested in photographing Credence because she found him intriguing and beautiful, and far from inadequate. Maybe he could do this. And maybe it wouldn’t feel like being exposed as much as being celebrated. And then there was Newt, who had disappeared behind a screen over in the corner and slung the dressing gown over the top. _Oh my God_. He was nearly naked back there, sang a little treacherous voice in Credence’s brain. 

“Yes,” he rasped. “I’m fine.”

Queenie squeezed his arm and whispered in his ear, “If that changes, you just say the word and she’ll stop, okay? I’ll be here the whole time.”

He nodded just as Tori turned on a set of lights, illuminating a cleared area of the room with a black canvas backdrop that extended onto the floor. Her studio space was entirely different from any of the others Credence had seen so far today, much more bare and tidy, although there was a desk in the corner with a computer and a stack of glossy binders, alongside a small rack of clothes. The desk chair had a familiar peacock blue winter coat and a grey and yellow scarf draped over it. The lion’s share of the space was taken up by lights on tripods, which were slowly warming up to full brightness where they were grouped around the open space waiting to be filled by a model, and there was a black leather couch off in the corner, out of the way, with an assortment of dark embroidered pillows. Tori was adjusting another tripod now, which had her camera on it.

“Credence, you mind if we start with you? I’m still gonna wait a minute until the lights are up all the way, but if you want to get in there I can get you in focus just right.” Tori was still fiddling with something on her camera, so Credence had a short moment to remind himself this was going to be fine before he bravely stepped onto the center of the room and found himself temporarily blinded by the lights all hitting him at once. Beyond the halo of light, Tori walked over to close the door and flick the main light switch off, and the rest of the room faded into deep shadow by comparison. Tori seemed to notice him squinting.

“Yeah, sorry about all the lights coming at you. I promise they’ll feel less harsh after a few minutes as your eyes get used to them. Try not to look directly at them, just look at me or off somewhere else. Whichever you like. I’m going to take a few practice shots, but you don’t have to worry, I’m just making sure the white balance is alright. I’ll let you know when we are really starting.” He couldn’t see her expression, just a dark shape outside the pool of light, but he could hear the enthusiasm in her voice and he tried not to flinch when the click of the shutter went off suddenly. He reminded himself that Queenie was there, and nothing bad was going to happen. Tori was nice, even if she was intimidatingly perfect, and she wasn’t going to be impatient if he didn’t know where to look or what to do. She wasn’t going to humiliate him.

He stood there a little lost for another few moments, blinking rapidly until his eyes started to feel less bewildered by the deep contrast of light and dark in the room, taking deep breaths like he had learned to do in yoga. From the corner where Newt had been changing, he heard the click of high heels on the floor, moving around the ring of light stands to join the two shadowy figures of Queenie and Tori, slightly easier to see now that his eyes had adjusted. He couldn’t see Newt in nearly as much detail as he would’ve liked, though, just the vague impression of a flowy skirt and the dim, pale shapes of his bare arms.

“Okay, Credence, that’s great. Why don’t we go ahead and try some standing shots with you looking into the camera. Damn, that makeup is awesome. Yeah, chin up just a little bit.” Credence did his best to look calm and not terrified. This was really happening, the shutter was clicking and Tori was making sounds of delight. “Yes! Oh, man, I’m getting, like, Thranduil vibes right now with the antler crown. That’s really good. Yeah, look a little bit snooty, like we’ve just wandered uninvited into your forest and you are pissed off about it.” 

He tried to give what Tina liked to call a bitch face. “Yesss,” breathed Tori. “Nice! Okay, maybe turn slowly so we can see the sides and the back. Yep, great, that way Queenie can put them together to show a client all angles of the outfit. Oh, and a couple without the cloak so we can see the detailing on the tunic better. Queens, are you going to submit this for that costume design contest you were telling me about? I mean, I’m not an expert here but I think you have a winner.”

While he was struggling to unclip the pin holding his cloak together, he heard Queenie’s voice drift from the back of the room. “Oh, Tori, you’re sweet. Yeah, I think I will. And did I tell you I got hired by this little theater company to do wardrobe for their upcoming season?”

There was a squeal from the darkness, and the sound of feet jumping up and down. “No, you didn’t tell me! Was that the job you were applying for a couple weeks ago? I forgot to ask how that interview went. Oh my God, good for you, you’re actually making money and everything.” Credence finally managed to slip his cloak off. He knew that being an artist was not an easy way to pay the bills, but Queenie never seemed to let it get her down. She had her job at the café for now, and she truly loved what she was working on in her studio. He imagined that everyone else in her community was likewise making it work somehow, successes sometimes popping up among periods of slow struggle, always working to stay true to what they wanted to do. It was really admirable, actually.

Credence heard Queenie’s footsteps coming closer, and then she emerged into the light to take his cloak, gently adjusting the collar of his tunic for a moment, talking over her shoulder to Tori at the same time. “I know! Imagine that. It’s not a lot that they’re paying me, but they’re covering all the costs of materials too, and I can actually cut back one shift at the café and still be in the clear. I want to have more time free to work here, and to spend at home.” She reached out and bopped Credence on the nose and he playfully swatted her away. “Hey… Tori, I know this year hasn’t been moving real fast for you, but I think this exhibition is bound to get you noticed, honey.” Queenie’s voice was softer and more serious as she picked her way over the extension cords on the floor and back out into the darkness. “Your work is amazing, and you deserve all sorts of commissions and shows. I know I’d go see them all.”

“Aw, thanks Queenie. Here’s hoping.” There was a rustling sound, like Queenie was rubbing Tori’s shoulder. “Okay, Credence, you doing okay in there? Those lights not to hot?”

Credence nodded, surprised to find that he was in fact completely alright. His success up to this point in following her simple instructions was buoying him up and erasing his earlier nerves. “No, not too hot. I’m good. What should I do now?”

They took another few shots with Credence standing, getting all his angles, and then Tori had him walk toward her a few steps while the camera clicked rapidly, then finally she and Queenie carefully lugged the couch out into the light and had him sit for a few poses.

“Oh, that’s great. Yeah, pretend it’s a throne. Uh huh, now just try one where you cross your legs. Great. Now have your legs up on the seat however is comfortable. You are the king of the faeries lounging in court. Yeah, try leaning your elbow on the back. Ooh, I like the raised eyebrow. Yeah, do that again.”

They got a good series of shots before her directions started to get more and more hilarious and Credence finally couldn’t keep from laughing, Queenie’s giggles sounding from the back of the room along with a low chuckle that might have been Newt.

“Okay, okay, the one where I suggested you try and look like a corpse was a little silly, but I think we got some really good shots in there. Credence, you’re a natural.” Relieved, Credence blinked as the sound of excited clapping came from the direction of Queenie’s silhouette, her curly hair just visible in the reflected light from the backdrop. The overhead lights abruptly came on, and Credence was amazed at how strange it was to see the space lit up once more. He caught a flash of blue behind one of the tripods, but the rest of Newt was momentarily hidden as Tori came closer. “Credence, I’m thinking we could just take care of the portrait for my series now too, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure,” Credence breathed. Why not? He’d made it this far.

Tori beamed at him. “Excellent. I do think we should take off some of that incredible makeup, though. What do you think, Queens? Just to make him look a little less like he’s made of ice. I love the eyeliner, though, definitely keep that, and maybe bring the eyeshadow down just a bit?” Tori was examining him carefully, but for some reason her close inspection didn’t bother him. Perhaps it was because it was not him she was evaluating, but her own artistic vision.

“Mm hm, I agree.” Queenie had come to join her, the two women gently removing his headpieces while he sat there quietly. “A bit softer and more natural, without the crown and the mask. Creedy, you’ll just be a human this time with a little hint of your own magic,” she giggled. Tori had produced a makeup-removing wipe from her bag and held it out for Queenie, and Credence obediently tilted his face up so she could clean the lipstick and most of the pale powder and glitter off his face. The wipe moved cool and delicate over his fluttering eyelids, his face cupped securely in Queenie’s palm as she murmured, “Tori, could you hand me my purse? I’m just going to take the dark eyeshadow off and give him a real soft grey this time.”

There was something incredibly relaxing about sitting on the couch with his eyes shut, surrounded by their soft ministrations, the creak of the leather and the quiet click of the makeup cases. The sound of Queenie’s nails against the plastic handle of the brush sent a gentle tingle down his spine. With a whisper-soft touch of powder, she evened out the parts of his face that had been wiped clean, making sure the erasure had left no smudges behind, and then carefully retouched his eyeshadow.

“There we go,” she murmured, sliding the necklace off of his throat. “Now we can see you better. It’s you with a little bit of extra emphasizing going on, but still Credence.” She kissed the top of his head, smoothing both hands over his hair, and Credence let himself open his eyes. Tori was beaming at him from over Queenie’s shoulder, and behind her…

Behind her was Newt, looking more elegant than any person ought to have a right to be. He had on the blue silk dress, which turned out to be a plunging v-neck, leaving his shoulders and back bare along with a deep slice of his sternum. The smooth silk molded itself perfectly to the slender line of his waist, draping beautifully down his long legs, which now seemed even longer thanks to the blue high-heeled pumps he was wearing, the tips just peeking out from under the hem of the skirt. It was a full-on evening gown, very expensive looking, and yet it was Newt who really shone in it, far more than the garment did. His skin looked so warm and touchable, all those freckles on display, and the defined muscles of his arms and shoulders stood out to perfection. The flat planes of his chest were hugged tight by the dress, soft fabric over hard pectorals, and it all made Credence’s mouth feel dry with the need to stare at him forever. He was balanced effortlessly on the line between feminine and masculine, and he was all so purely Newt.

“Okay, Credence,” Tori said, rummaging through her clothes rack. “I love the long tunic look you got going on, so let’s try a few photos as is and then I might put you in something else, if you don’t mind.”

Dazed, Credence mumbled an “Okay,” his eyes still locked on Newt, who was leaning gracefully against the side of Tori’s desk, watching her search through her garments for something that would fit Credence. He saw her pull out something black and gauzy-looking which she draped over the chair before heading back to her station at the camera. 

“This is meant to be very casual,” Tori explained, carefully catching his eyes and giving him an encouraging smile. “The exhibition is themed around androgyny, but that means something slightly different to everyone. So my portrait series is celebrating the beauty of people who happen to embrace fashions and styles that break out of the traditional gender binary, in whatever way that manifests for them. Some are trans or genderqueer, some do drag, and some just have no need to be boxed in by arbitrary conventions. Newt likes to say he’s very in touch with his anima.” She grinned over her shoulder at him, and he beamed back at her, so beautiful it made Credence ache inside. 

Turning back to face the lit photo stage, she continued. “It’s clear to me you’ve got a wonderful unique style, Credence, and you have this really pure-hearted strength underneath it that draws people to you. I’m not even sure you know how magnetic you are.” Credence’s mind was singing in shock at how kind her words were, and then Newt was nodding and Credence was floating away in a cloud of astonished bliss. “So, all you have to do is sit there and be you, and I’m going to do my best to try and capture how special your energy is.”

Somehow, Credence managed a nod, and Tori flicked out the lights, once again ensconcing him in darkness, alone in a glowing pool of warmth.

“What I sometimes do, when we are just starting out, is just get my portrait model talking.” Tori’s voice drifted out of the darkness. “It probably feels a bit scary without the mask and the character, right? But you know how to be you, if you let yourself relax, and talking will usually help. So, don’t worry for a moment about me; I’m just going to be here getting some test shots. How about you tell Newt something meaningful about yourself that he doesn’t know yet?”

There was the sound of high heels clicking across the floor, and then Newt was standing at the edge of the light, smiling softly at him as he set down Tori’s desk chair and took a seat, elegantly crossing his legs at the ankle. For a moment, Credence’s mind drew a complete blank. There were several obvious secrets that Newt didn’t know about him, of course, namely how he felt about him and how he’d dreamed about his body, but he couldn’t possibly reveal those. That left only a few options; Newt already knew about the bakery, his college classes were too much of an easy answer, and Credence simply didn’t have much else going on in his life. He finally settled for something fairly safe, that would still take a good bit of courage to get out.

“I have two younger sisters,” he began, “named Chastity and Modesty. They live with a foster family, over in Bellevue, and I go and visit them when I can.” Credence swallowed before continuing, ignoring the few soft clicks of the camera. “Our… adopted mother liked the idea of children being named after virtues, to remind us that our lives are ruled by our duty to be good and faithful.” He absently rubbed the thumb of one hand against the scars on his other palm. Newt was sitting very still, listening raptly, his face betraying no judgment or shock. “I don’t believe it’s that simple anymore, but I can’t imagine being named anything else now. This name has stuck with me thus far, and I guess I’ve come to fit my own meaning to it, so… I think it has become a worthwhile reminder of something else. It’s… a strong idea, having belief in something. You can have credence in anything you choose.”

His eyes were locked with Newt’s vibrant green ones, and then Newt was smiling and nodding in agreement. "I think that's very true," he replied quietly.

Credence couldn’t help but smile back at him the way he never could seem to resist doing, full of bright joy and devotion. The sound of the shutter ticked along under the comfortable silence, and Tori gently prompted, “Keep going, that’s wonderful.”

Credence fidgeted slightly and stretched his long legs out in front of him, smoothing down the tunic over his thighs as he thought of what else to say.

“Um. My sisters fit right in with their new foster family. They seem happy, so that’s good.” He looked down at the glossy nail polish on his fingers, wondering what their expressions would be if they could see how he looked right now. Probably a little wide-eyed, but he thought they wouldn’t truly be offended by it, not like some of the strangers at their new church. He and his siblings had been through too much together by now to judge the parts of each other they didn’t fully understand. And the Grants set a good example of acceptance, even if that example was not followed by all of their congregation. It was not a place he had felt welcome. “I wouldn’t be happy living there,” Credence added firmly, relaxing back into the couch and looking back at Newt. “I’m so lucky to have Tina and Queenie, and a place where… I can take the time to figure out what I want to believe in. And… what I want to do with myself now.”

He thought of Juliet’s voice murmuring ‘I think more good things will come, as you discover what you want to do next.’ There was a wonderful and terrifying freedom encapsulated in those words. He had no clear direction yet, he didn’t know what he wanted to get his degree in, or how he would manage on his own when he was ready to find his own place to live. But perhaps that was okay. He was alright where he was, finding things that made him happy, and the next step would become clear to him eventually.

“That’s a very worthwhile pursuit,” Newt said softly. Tori appeared to have picked up the tripod and was moving in closer to him, waving to Newt to do the same. He stood in a swirl of blue silk, drawing Credence’s gaze to the pale freckles on the skin of his leg, flashing through a deep slit up the side of the skirt. As he came closer, Credence could see that his legs were hairless, shaved smooth, and he felt his mouth go a little dry. 

Newt appeared to have caught his interested glance. “Have you ever shaved your legs, Credence?” It was clear the question was completely neutral, just innocent curiosity, but Credence felt a hunger start to grow in his stomach at the sudden idea of Newt shaving his legs for him, his elegant deft fingers running over Credence’s thigh.

“No,” he replied, a little raspier than usual. He watched Newt walk closer, coming to stand at Tori’s shoulder in front of him and slightly to the side, so he was looking up at them at an angle, his elbow propped on the arm of the couch. He swallowed. “Not yet, anyway.” He wasn’t sure what possessed him to say that in such a low, playful tone of voice, but the delighted laugh it got him from Newt was well worth it. 

He watched in rapturous surprise as Newt pulled aside his skirt, still grinning, the long pale leg exposed to his view and looking almost torturously lickable, all lean muscle and freckles and a slightly bony knee. There was a tantalizing swirl of ink peeking where the silk was still covering his upper thigh, and a cute little platypus-like creature was tattooed on his ankle. “I find the process relaxing and the results very pleasant,” he explained. “I imagine your cousins could advise you just as well as I could, but if you ever wanted to try it I’d be glad to give you a few pointers.”

Credence’s gaze snapped up to Newt’s face, feeling as if he’d like to ask for a lesson now, please, right now. Can I come over there and run my hand all the way up your leg and you can tell me anything you want to and I will listen and obey everything you say? 

He didn’t know what his face was doing exactly, but Tori’s camera was clicking away rapidly, his eyes now drawn in curiosity to the dark opening of the lens, wondering what it was she saw. Could she read all his secrets laid bare in there? Strangely, he thought he might not mind right now if she did. He felt vulnerable but also honest and complete. This was who he was, a little anxious but achingly eager to enfold himself in Newt’s compassion, his beauty and strength. To have someone so amazing see the parts of himself he kept hidden, to accept and cherish him, to want him for who he truly was.

“I’d like that,” he whispered, eyes darting to Newt’s over Tori’s shoulder, his radiant smile returning helplessly when they locked eyes and Newt nodded, a warm promise in his gaze. Credence looked back at the camera, which was moving closer to him now, floating in a soft happiness so intense he barely noticed the rattling of the shutter anymore.

“That’s wonderful, Credence, keep looking into the lens,” breathed Tori, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she bent down to get closer to his level and avoid blocking the light. “That’s just right.”

It was as if all his nerves had been drained away, now, and Tori could sense it, slowly beginning to ease him into the main part of the photoshoot as she moved around him, gently directing him to shift his position or adjust the angle of his chin. “Very good. I think that one’s a keeper. Let’s try some standing too, you never know what ends up coming out of a bit of experimentation.”

They did quite a few with the tunic on, and then Tori had him change into the gauzy black garment, which turned out to be an interesting blouse that zipped up the back and had a high neck and fitted sleeves that were almost completely see-through. She handed him a pair of grey slacks that molded themselves to his thighs and a pair of black boots that were a size too small but not terribly uncomfortable. It wasn’t as if he had to walk in them, really, and they covered his ankles where the pants rode up due to the length of his legs. When he stepped out from behind the partition, she hummed in satisfaction. “Yep. That’s perfect. As long as you feel good in those? Are they clothes you’re comfortable wearing?” He nodded. “Okay, let’s do another set and then we’ll see if any other ideas come to either of us.”

Credence liked the way she included him in that statement, as if they were making this up together as they went along. He was glad to cede control to her, knowing by now that he was in excellent hands. They shot him standing, sitting, and even lying on the couch looking up at her, a pose which he never would’ve been able to relax into had Newt not been there, watching them eagerly from the edge of the light. As it was, all he had to do was glance at Newt and his ease was back. He was safe.

It was rather addicting, actually. He found himself looking more and more toward where Newt was standing, the soft reflected light illuminating his skin as he tilted his head fondly, watching Tori work and smiling at Credence in encouragement. Eventually, Tori seemed to notice that Credence was having trouble keeping his eyes on the camera and off of Newt.

“Why don’t you get in here, Newt. Save Credence having to crane his neck to look at you,” she said, a soft huff of amusement in her voice. “I’ve got what I wanted with him on his own anyway.” Unsure for a moment what she meant, he watched dumbfounded as she waved Newt into the circle of light and directed him to sit on the couch next to Credence. “Oh, wow, you two have perfect aesthetic chemistry. Well! This is excellent. We’re definitely going to run with this, if you two don’t mind. Credence, why don’t you try putting your head on his shoulder and we’ll see what feels right after that.”

Credence wasn’t quite sure this was real. What followed could only be described as a dream, in which he was allowed to drape himself all over Newt on the couch and feel the delicate touch of his hands on his hair, his arms, his back. They did a series of shots where Newt was reclining on the couch and Credence was cradled in his arms, head lying on his chest as he dimly watched the lens of the camera from beyond a veil of serenity, lulled by the thudding of Newt’s heartbeat under his ear and the drag of his hand over his scalp and down his spine. Credence had ended up with his arms wrapped tight around Newt’s waist, clinging to him with all the longing he’d been holding in this entire time.

The most wonderful part was that Newt didn’t seem to mind at all. Perhaps that ‘Free Hugs’ shirt had been an excellent idea, not that he had needed it. As it turned out, Newt was a cuddler. They shifted into a position on the couch where Credence was seated and Newt was lounged in his lap, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders and Newt’s head leaning against Credence’s temple. It felt thrillingly natural for Credence to wind his arms around Newt’s slender waist and pull him closer, to finally put his hand on the hot, silky skin of his bare back and nuzzle slightly into Newt’s cheek. Credence had no doubt that the camera was picking up the exquisite longing in his expression; now that he’d had Newt this close, he never was going to want to let go of him again.

But he had to, when Tori asked them to switch it up and do a few standing poses. Except, this was still just as incredible. She had Newt face the camera while Credence wrapped himself around him from behind, unable to resist giving the camera a bit of a triumphant smirk from where his cheek was pressed against Newt’s hair, his arms wrapped around Newt’s narrow torso possessively, one hand curled around his opposite shoulder and the other gripping the silk over his waist. Then Newt turned within the circle of his arms and looked over his shoulder at the camera, while Credence couldn’t help running a thumb over the knobs of his spine where his warm skin met the silk of the dress, his palm splayed over the small of Newt’s back and the other hand clutching his hip.

Perhaps best of all, though, was when Tori suggested that Newt sit back down and let Credence curl up in his lap, first with his head on Newt’s shoulder, and then lying down with Newt’s thigh as his pillow. He realized he had absently curled a hand around Newt’s smooth calf when he caught himself squeezing it as he shivered in pleasure at the feeling of fingers carding through his hair, his eyes drifting closed. After a few moments, Newt’s gentle grip on his shoulder eased him onto his back, Credence looking up into his green eyes sleepily as Newt captured one of Credence’s hands and brought it up to cup his face, the skin of his cheek warm and slightly powdery with make-up.

Credence could feel the long moment of silent surprise when Newt saw the scars, his movements suddenly ceasing and his gaze flicking down to Credence’s face immediately. 

He wasn’t sure what to say or do, so Credence just lay there and let Newt hold his hand and process whatever slightly fearful look was likely playing over his expression right now. He waited for the questions, for the pity and the curiosity, too deep in whatever soft peaceful place this was to really mind.

But instead, Newt slowly kissed Credence’s palm. Right on top of the visible scars, his lips feather light and warm, never breaking eye contact with Credence, his eyes seeming to ask a silent question. Whatever it was, the answer was yes. Yes, Newt could do that. Yes, Credence would tell him what happened to earn him those scars, if he really wanted to know. Yes, Newt had his complete trust to touch him wherever he liked. Credence could see clearly in the gentleness of his gaze that that trust would never ever be abused. So he gave himself up completely to it, his other hand trembling a little as he offered it up too.

Newt’s eyes widened, and he drew both hands to him carefully, linking them with his own, palm to palm. Then, somehow, after some shifting, they both ended up lying down half on top of each other, Credence tucked between the protective curve of Newt’s body and the back of the couch. Newt still had one of Credence’s hands held gently in his own, and he was slowly massaging his thumb over the scars while Credence watched, dumbfounded, from within the safe curl of Newt’s arm around his shoulders, his face partially tucked into Newt’s neck and the smell of his shampoo surrounding him in a blissful warmth. He was peripherally aware of Tori coming in close to shoot a rapid burst of photos over the back of the couch, then dragging a chair over so she could stand on it and get a shot of them from above, curled up like kittens in a basket. Newt finished his massage and simply pressed Credence’s hand over his heart, both arms wrapping around Credence’s shoulders now, and long fingers coming up to run through his hair again.

He let his eyes drift shut, memorizing the beat of Newt’s heart under his palm.

If there had been some way for the moment to have lasted forever, Credence would’ve probably offered up his very soul for it in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :D 
> 
> That was a really long chapter with no sex, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! I promise there will be some hot action in the next one (and not all of it in Credence's head!). He's gonna start being more proactive soon.
> 
> Also, did anyone notice my super sneaky Harry cameo? Basically I was trying to come up with other artist characters to fill the studio with, and I got stuck on the idea of Harry as an artist painting angry portraits of Voldemort to deal with his traumatic past. Has anybody written a story about that? I wasn't otherwise planning to have him in this fic, but I couldn't resist this one little appearance.


	6. Tree Pose

The rest of that day all felt like a dream. When Tori had finished shooting photos of Newt and Credence together, she moved on to just Newt, and Credence had watched spellbound from the shadows next to Queenie, drinking in the way Newt swirled his dress, the supple curve of his spine and the defined muscles of his back, the way his red lips parted in a laugh at something Tori was saying.

Then they had all changed back into warmer clothes and gone out to eat at a cozy diner down the street, which felt bizarrely open and loud after the intimacy of the photo studio. Credence found himself next to Newt in the booth, trying to keep from openly staring at him in wonder as he ate, concentrating instead on his own plate so he wouldn’t get caught drooling over the way he looked in his coat and scarf and soft grey sweater with the wig and makeup still on. It was getting a bit pathetic really, the level of his infatuation, but he simply couldn’t help himself. At least Newt didn’t seem to mind the way Credence was sitting a bit too close, their knees pressed together under the table and their elbows occasionally knocking. When he was finished eating, Newt had leaned back with a sigh and offered Credence the rest of his fries, which he immediately accepted and carefully ate, trying not to let the more ridiculous part of him read anything into it. Come on, he told himself, they’re just fries. 

And anyway, wasn’t this whole experiment today motivated by trying to make sure Newt ended up with Graves? 

Crap. He wasn’t so sure anymore, actually. He didn’t think that his heart could take it if the two of them were a couple, despite his earlier convictions and the stubborn voice inside him that called him greedy and covetous. Somehow, somewhere between getting to put his arms around Newt and then feeling his soft lips against his scars, he had crossed over into a new level of adoration that was deep and desperately clingy. It was no longer possible for him to put that aside for the greater good of everyone involved. He was not a martyr. Why should his happiness have to be sacrificed?

Credence stuck close to Newt on the walk back to the studio and lurked nearby as he took off his wig and makeup, listening as he shyly told them all a funny story about one of his massage clients’ dogs that Credence listened to with half an ear while the other half of him was thrumming with the desire to go curl up at his feet and just stay there forever with Newt’s fingers running through his hair. It felt like agony when the man had to leave to go to his volunteer shift at the animal shelter and rescue clinic. 

Because _of course_ he worked with needy animals in his spare time. He was Newt, and he was amazing.

Before he left the studio, the man hugged him tightly and murmured, “It was lovely shooting with you, Credence. I’m so glad you wanted to try it and I can’t wait to see how those photos come out.” He pulled back and absently toyed with the end of his scarf, adding, “If you ever want help with… er, grooming questions that you’d rather ask a man, or, you know, where to shop for comfortable heels in a size eleven, I hope you’ll feel free to ask me.” He gently reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind Credence’s ear. “And it would be wonderful to just… talk, sometime, about anything you like. I remember what it was like to try and figure out what I wanted to do with my life, and I’m… Well, I’m an open ear for you if you want it.” He grinned warmly. “Not that I’ve got all the answers. Still figuring things out myself. But sometimes I might be able to help. The world can be a bit unwelcoming for those of us who are just a little different, but you are never alone.”

And then, with one last wave to all of them and a kiss to Tori’s cheek, he was gone, leaving Credence staring after him in wistful astonishment. It didn’t seem that his offer was anything more than friendly, almost like a mentor or a protective older sibling offering to look out for him, but it still filled his chest with butterflies.

Credence spent the rest of the afternoon listlessly trying to focus on his reading for psychology class while his mind wandered back to that hug and recreated scenes from the morning’s photoshoot. Newt’s lips against his hand, Newt’s eyes dark with mascara, the sound of his heartbeat under Credence’s ear. He tried to distract himself by sending a text to Graves _(Hope the meeting went well! :) –Credence)_ but the man must have still been working, since he didn’t send a reply. There was nothing else he could think of to tether him to reality any longer, so he finally just let himself stare dreamily at his textbook, not taking in a single word, as his mind wandered over blue silk and freckles.

By the time the afternoon had wound to a close and Queenie was shepherding him to the car, Credence was far off in a blissful daydream of running his hands up Newt’s smooth legs, desperately curious what was tattooed on his upper thigh. The car ride and the rest of the evening passed in a half-remembered blink, and before Credence knew it he was in bed and cringing at the realization that he had been zoned out and sighing all through dinner, and both Queenie and Tina had most certainly put together the reason why. They were sharp like that.

But he couldn’t help it. Newt was exquisite. He furtively touched himself that night to the image of Newt in the silk dress, sitting on the black couch, imagining what it would be like to kiss up the man’s leg while Newt pulled the skirt up higher and higher. There would be gentle fingers caressing his scalp as he worked his way to Newt’s groin, burying his face in the hot crease of his hip and worshipping Newt’s cock with his mouth, which he would obediently take in deeper when he felt the press of a hand on the back of his head. Newt would be gentle, poised elegantly on the couch with Credence’s dark head between his thighs, murmuring encouragement and instructions.

‘That’s it, baby. Mmm, that’s nice. Good boy. Hollow your cheeks a bit.’ His hand would clench slightly in Credence’s hair when he got a particularly good flick of his tongue in under the head. In his imagination, Credence was unworried about the fact he had never done this before, trusting Newt to teach him to do it how he liked best. The weight of his penis would feel hot and heavy in the welcoming embrace of his mouth, the taste of his salty velvety skin driving Credence wild and making his mouth fill with saliva. He could imagine how Newt would moan as he got close, biting his lip and watching intently while Credence doubled his efforts and sucked harder, devoted to his pleasure and desperate for the reward of Newt’s orgasm. He had never before had semen in his mouth, but he wondered what it would be like to feel the hot pulse on his tongue, to taste Newt’s intimate release and know it was brought about solely through his own ministrations, that Newt had enjoyed himself and been satisfied by Credence’s mouth. The thought was hotter than he expected.

He wondered what Newt would do afterward. Would he pull Credence up into his lap and kiss him, uncaring of the bitter taste of seed on his lips? The idea of kissing Newt had a sleek pleasure of its own, imagining the wet glide of his tongue and the softness of his lips, the way he might swallow Credence’s whimpers as one hand rubbed soothingly down his back. Imaginary Credence wrapped his arms around Newt’s neck and moved to straddle him on the couch, deepening the kiss and clinging to him tightly. Newt’s hands might smooth down his sides to grip Credence’s hips, perhaps then cupping his ass while the kiss grew more heated, Credence unable to resist grinding his crotch a little bit against Newt’s firm abs.

Eventually they would have to break for breath. ‘Baby,’ Newt panted, ‘Was that your lovely prick I just felt? Are you hard for me?’ And of course, he was. Credence guided one of Newt’s hands to the bulge under his grey slacks and let him feel how inflamed he was, thick and aching. ‘Oh, my.’ Newt ran his palm up and down gently over the swell of his erection, making Credence buck his hips helplessly. ‘Very nice. Is this from having me in your mouth, pet? Or the kissing?’

‘Everything,’ Credence whispered, trying not to fidget as Newt squeezed just a bit. ‘I’m turned on by everything about you.’ 

Then Newt would smile in delight, his green eyes warm with affection. ‘I see. Well, seeing as I’ve gotten you all hot and bothered, it’s only right that I take care of that for you. I’ll make it feel so good, baby.’ Credence shivered as Newt pulled the slacks open slowly, the rasping sound of the zipper making his stomach flutter in anticipation. Before doing anything further, however, Newt pulled him back into a kiss, licking into his mouth and helping him relax, one hand sliding under the hem of Credence’s shirt to scratch blunt nails lightly over his back. They pulled apart with a slick sound, Newt biting gently at Credence’s bottom lip. ‘What do you want me to do, pet? I know you like the idea of being in my mouth.’

The possibility was incredibly arousing, but that would mean imagining moving out of Newt’s lap and no longer being face to face. The closeness was half of what he craved right now, the chance to look in Newt’s eyes and kiss the smile at the corner of his lips and bury his face in his hair. ‘Maybe… could you use your hand?’

‘Of course, sweetheart,’ Newt murmured into his ear while Credence breathed in the scent of eucalyptus and mint. ‘I’d love to get my hands on you. Mmm, such a polite boy. Will you take this off for me?’ He was tugging at Credence’s gauzy blouse, unzipping it in the back, and in the dream Credence eagerly complied, raising his arms so that Newt could slide it up and off of him. Then there were warm hands roaming over his torso, dragging down his chest and passing lightly over his nipples and his ticklish belly. He coaxed Credence up onto his knees with a palm pressing up under his ass, then slid the slacks down to mid-thigh along with his briefs. Credence’s cock sprang out immediately, sensitive and swollen.

‘Mmm. You have a beautiful prick, baby.’ The tickle of Newt’s breath was warm on his cheek as he settled back down onto the man’s thighs, turning slightly sideways so that his pants could be tugged off the rest of the way down his legs. He sat bare-assed in Newt’s lap, cradled against his chest, his forehead resting against Newt’s temple, while the man ran a hand up his thigh. ‘My darling.’ He had some lube, somehow, so his hand was wet when he wrapped it finally around Credence’s cock, making his whole body shiver. ‘I’m going to take such good care of you.’

He started slow, teasing little gasps out of Credence as his clever fingers massaged up and down the shaft, rubbing over the head and getting his entire member glistening wet. Newt’s eyes were flickering between the sight of the penis twitching in his hand and the look on Credence’s face, watching him intently as he started to squirm and whimper and bite his lip. Newt’s hand sped up a little, the twist of his wrist at the top adding a little extra fizzle of pleasure, although it still wasn’t firm enough to really get him going. Credence whined softly. ‘Is that good, baby? You want more, don’t you? Tell me.’

‘Yes,’ breathed Credence, ‘please, more. Newt, harder. You can squeeze harder. It’s so good.’

‘That’s it,’ praised Newt, ‘such a good boy, asking for what you want.’ He rewarding him with an open mouthed kiss and a stronger tug on his cock and Credence shuddered, moaning around Newt’s tongue. Suddenly, Newt’s other hand was creeping between his legs to fondle his balls gently, and Credence’s hips bucked of their own accord, his moan rising in pitch. ‘Oh, yes, that’s right. You do love your bollocks played with, don’t you darling?’ Under the blankets in bed, the real Credence had also cupped his balls with one hand while the other jacked his cock, and he had to stifle a whimper into the pillow.

‘Mmm, they’re sensitive, aren’t they?’ Newt’s voice softened to a very quiet whisper. ‘And what about this?’ Then there was a finger rubbing behind his balls, sliding unerringly toward his asshole, and Credence’s mouth fell open in a quiet gasp. ‘Do you like this too? What do you think?’ Credence had only dared to try fingering himself a few times, when he had lots of time and lube and nobody was home. The trouble was, with the time it took him to prep and ease into the stretch he needed a long period with nobody around. It just didn’t happen all that often that he had the privacy, and not always at a time when he had the urge to do something with the opportunity. Tomorrow, though, he would have the house to himself during the day. He bit his lip.

‘Alright, baby, I think we’ll save most of that for tomorrow, then,’ Newt said in his head, focusing back on Credence’s cock and balls. His hand was nice and wet, gliding smoothly up and down Credence’s prick faster now, hot deep pleasure building in his pelvis and making his ass clench and his mouth go dry. He was still clutching Newt’s shoulders, watching the swollen pink head of his dick reappearing in and out of the sliding grip of Newt’s hand. ‘Is that good, baby?’ Credence buried his face in Newt’s neck and moaned, his lovely voice almost too much right now. ‘Sweetheart, I want to hear you say it,’ Newt whispered into his hair, his hand still expertly working over his cock. It inflamed Credence with arousal to have Newt so calm and composed, so focused on him as he fell apart, coaxing helpless confessions of pleasure out of him.

‘Oh… I-It’s so good. You… your hand feels just right. So slippery… and– Mmn!’ 

Newt was licking his ear, his breath hot and moist against Credence’s hair. ‘Good boy,’ he purred. ‘I always want to know what makes you feel good, baby, so I can learn exactly how to make you come the hardest.’ And then he was massaging Credence’s balls with one sure hand while the other sped up on his prick, lean biceps bulging and the muscles tensing in his freckled forearm as Credence quivered and let out a shocked sob of bright pleasure. The middle finger of the hand fondling his balls was suddenly pressing right over his asshole, rubbing one dry tight little circle over the wrinkled furl of his rim, and Credence felt his ass clench hard in response, whimpering.

‘More, more. Newt, don’t stop. Newt, I’m so close, I… ah, ah!’ The finger was pressing more firmly, massaging his sensitive pucker as it tightened rhythmically, uncontrollable waves of white hot pleasure shooting through him, automatically babbling ‘Oh! Yes… More… Newt!’ in between hitching sobs.

His balls tightened and his entire awareness shrank to the feeling of blissful eruption and release, spurting and forceful and so, so sweetly good. It shook his whole body, rushing through him like a wave, leaving him wrung out and deliciously sticky. In bed, Credence panted, blinking around the quivering aftershocks, sex-dumb and sated, one finger pressing on his asshole as its clenching slowed and the other hand still squeezing his cock gently. He hadn’t managed to keep the tissue in place this time, and his underwear would need to be scrubbed off in a moment to hide the evidence, but he didn’t want to move yet.

In his head, he was gasping and Newt was murmuring soothing things into his ear as he came down from his orgasm, feeling the last of the shivers work their way through his body as he held Credence’s twitching cock in his hand for a few moments longer, until he mewled plaintively and Newt gently let it fall onto his thigh.

‘My beautiful boy,’ he murmured, ‘That was a pleasure to watch, darling.’ He rubbed a hand over Credence’s stomach and chest, covered in sticky ropes of semen, and placed a kiss on Credence’s forehead. Credence imagined that he would be allowed to sit there, dazed and limp, while Newt cossetted him for a while, cleaning up his torso with a wet cloth and letting him nuzzle into his neck while he ran his nails gently down his back. Credence would cling to him, feeling slightly vulnerable, and Newt would know exactly what to do to soothe his neediness. There would be lingering sweet kisses to all the parts of Credence’s face that he could reach while he remained half-buried against Newt’s throat, and strong, safe arms around him, guiding him to lie down tucked between Newt’s body and the back of the couch.

‘My little darling,’ Newt would whisper, coaxing Credence’s face out of hiding to take his lips in a long, languid kiss, cuddling him close. The silk of Newt’s dress and the butter-soft leather of the couch would feel exquisite against Credence’s naked skin, and if he shivered a bit perhaps Newt would pull a soft blanket out of somewhere and cover them up, warm and intimate in a secure little cocoon. Credence could put his hand on Newt’s cheek, trace the formations of freckles over his finely-formed bone structure, gaze into his green eyes and press himself so close that he’d feel the pounding of Newt’s heart against his own chest. 

Muzzily, the real Credence staggered to the bathroom and changed his underwear, doing his best to scrub the come stain out of the first pair so there would be no embarrassment at the laundromat, before falling back into bed, still lost in his fantasy. Newt would be watching him with those kind, beautiful eyes, murmuring ‘Sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.’ And Credence would be helpless to disobey, his eyelids growing heavy as he tucked his head under Newt’s chin, listening to the heartbeat thumping under his ear while Newt traced gentle circles on his back, his breath ruffling Credence’s hair.

He was asleep between one blink and the next, held in Newt’s imaginary arms, his soft exhales filling the quiet living room in a slow peaceful rhythm.

The next morning, Credence woke feeling incredibly refreshed, a tickle of anticipatory excitement in his stomach. He would get to see Newt again today.

He did his best to stay attentive to his cousins’ conversation over breakfast, but he was pretty sure they caught him staring dreamily into space a couple of times. Neither of them mentioned it, though, just gave him a knowing smile. Tina left for work first, pressing a kiss to the tops of both their heads before heading out to the car with the keys jingling in her hand.

Queenie grinned at him. “I can’t wait to see the proofs from the shoot yesterday, Creedy! Those were some amazing shots she got of you.” She stood to take her plate into the kitchen, and Credence followed automatically. “Tori texted me late last night saying she had just finished going through them and couldn’t believe how many keepers there were. It’s going to be hard to pick which ones to put in the series.”

Credence blushed, unable to contain a small grin. “Will… When do you think we will get to see them?” The thought sent a flurry of excitement through his chest, along with a little bit of nervousness. What if he looked terrible in them? What if he looked wonderful? He wasn’t sure which option was more overwhelming.

“Ooh, I bet she’ll be done editing in the next few days! Maybe we can see them on her computer when we go for Halloween! Oh, I am so excited, I don’t even want to wait that long. She might be willing to email us a few so we can have a look sooner, what do you think?” Queenie was bouncing slightly on her feet.

Credence liked the idea of being able to see the photos ahead of time, before the party, when there wouldn’t be a whole crowd of strangers around. What if they were embarrassing? At least that way he’d be prepared before there was an audience. “Would she?” he asked hopefully, a tinge of anxiety in his voice. “That would be great.”

Queenie’s eyes softened and he got the impression she knew exactly what he was thinking. “I’ll ask her this morning at work, Bambi. I bet she’d love to. She’s so thrilled about these photos, I can tell.”

Later, after Queenie had left, Credence sank onto the couch and pulled out his laptop. He was an hour into working on his homework before he caught sight of his phone, plugged into its charger in the wall. He’d stuck it there last night on silent mode, apparently, though he had been in too much of a Newt-induced fog to really remember it. There was a notification blinking on the screen.

 _Three messages received_. His heart pounding, Credence hurriedly scooped the phone up and unlocked it, his fingers clumsy in his haste. He rarely ever got texts, just the occasional ones from his sisters inviting him to their church events, or check-ins from Tina or Queenie if he was home sick or having a bad day. Who would be sending him three in a row?

His heart gave a warm lurch as he saw that they were all from Graves. The first one was from 6:57 pm last night, when he had probably been dreamily eating dinner or staring blankly at his textbook, thinking about Newt. _Very boring, but the pastries were amazing. Thanks for asking._ Oh! That’s right, he had asked Graves about his meeting. And then a couple minutes later, the second one said, _Finally home. How was your day?_ Credence bit his lip, wishing he had seen these last night. Graves had worked a long day, and afterward he had wanted to relax and talk to Credence! The feeling was wonderful. He hoped the man wouldn’t mind too much that he hadn’t written back; Credence cringed at the idea of seeming rude, or appearing not to care about the man’s question. He hadn’t been ignoring him, honestly, just distracted.

The final message was from this morning, and it read simply, _Looking forward to yoga tonight. See you there?_ It didn’t seem like Graves was at all put off by Credence’s lack of reply yesterday, at least not that he could tell from the short text of his message. Deciding to assume he was forgiven, Credence eagerly wrote a message back.

 _Yes! Me too. Sorry about last night, I plugged my phone in to charge and then forgot to check it. My day was great. I went to my cousin’s art studio. Sounds like you had a lot of work! Did you have a relaxing evening?_ There, that ought to show that he was still very interested in communicating. He assumed the man wouldn’t write back immediately, considering he was probably at work, but Credence was just turning back to his laptop when his phone lit up again.

 _Yes, I managed to relax last night for a while. You are sweet to ask_. Credence grinned brightly, then blinked when another message appeared on the heels of the last one. _My paperwork is giving me a headache now, though. Wish it was evening already so I could be sitting in yoga with you_. Credence pouted on his behalf. He didn’t want Graves to have a headache.

 _Oh no! :( Headaches are bad. Can you take a break for a few minutes? Drink some water?_ After he pressed send, he felt a little silly. He sounded like Tina, fussing the way she usually did when he had a cold and she wanted to make sure at every moment that he was warm enough and hydrated and had gotten enough rest.

But Graves didn’t seem to mind at all. _That’s excellent advice. I’m going to do that right now, and if anybody asks where I’m going, I’ll tell them my life coach authorized me to take a break. It’s basically true._

 _Good!_ Credence giggled as he typed, _You deserve a break. Maybe you can get outside, sometimes sunshine helps me with headaches :)_

 _Alright, I will. You take such good care of me_ , came the reply, and Credence immediately flushed hot. What was it about that phrasing that made him feel an immediate tickle of arousal? 

Oh. It came back to him in a rush, his fantasy of sitting in Newt’s lap, his lovely voice whispering, ‘I’m going to take such good care of you,’ as he expertly touched Credence the way he desperately wanted it. Abruptly, he imagined a shift in the situation, Graves straddling Credence’s lap and panting while Credence confidently jacked Graves’ thick cock, taking in the rippling muscles of his torso as he moaned at the sensation.

‘You need to relax,’ he might whisper, as Graves bucked his hips and groaned deeply, his broad hands braced behind him on Credence’s knees as the man threw his head back. ‘You’ve been working too hard,’ Credence would say, ‘Time to let go of some tension.’ 

Graves’ fingers would tighten their grip on Credence’s legs as his hand sped up its rhythm on the man’s throbbing cock, and Credence would run his free palm over all the dense muscle on that broad chest while Graves gasped with pleasure. Then perhaps he would bite his lip as Graves started to jerk and twitch in his hand, hot and desperate, ropes of come spurting out to coat Credence’s knuckles. Graves would be panting, his gorgeous torso heaving as he caught his breath, catching hold of Credence’s wrist and bringing it up to his mouth to lick at the semen on his fingers and place a lingering kiss on his wet palm, right over the come and the lube and the scars.

‘You take such good care of me, baby.’ Then he would cup Credence’s face in those broad hands and kiss him with the taste of come on his lips, sliding his tongue into Credence’s welcoming mouth while his thumbs traced over Credence’s cheeks and Credence’s cock twitched against his muscular thigh.

Credence startled as the phone lit up again, realizing he had just spent several minutes staring at the wall while Graves was waiting for a reply. Berating himself internally, he read the message on the screen.

_Sitting in a park across the street in the sun. I feel better already. You’re a genius._

Hurriedly, he typed a reply. _Excellent ;D_ A few seconds after he sent it, he wondered if the winky face was too juvenile, but he decided he didn’t care. Graves wouldn’t judge him for something like that. He wondered, however, whether he would judge Credence for fantasizing about him, if he knew. Actually, maybe he wouldn’t mind at all, especially if… well… Was he interested in Credence sexually? The question had remained in the back of his mind ever since Queenie had brought it up yesterday, and despite his near certainty that there was no way he’d caught the romantic attention of someone so incredibly hot and funny and successful, there was still a part of him that wasn’t sure. Was this flirting?

The phone lit up again. _Do you have time right now to tell me about your cousin’s studio? Sounds interesting and I’d love a distraction_. Credence’s heart beat picked up. Whether it was flirting or not, it sent a ticklish thrill through him to have someone so interested in knowing about what he was up to, someone who thought Credence was worth spending his precious break time talking to.

Biting his lip against a giddy smile, he decided impulsively to just dial Graves’ number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, Credence.” His voice was warm and fond through the phone speakers, and there were was the sound of distant voices and the rustle of leaves in the background.

“Hi,” Credence said, unaccountably shy all of a sudden. “Is the park nice?”

“Oh, it’s alright. The fall colors on the leaves are always sort of refreshing. Couple of dogs trying to get after a squirrel. What are you up to on your day off?” Credence was glad to hear that Graves sounded peaceful, like his headache really was wearing off.

“Not much yet,” he admitted. “Finishing up some homework, and then cooking dinner later. But in the middle I don’t have any plans.”

“Sounds relaxing,” Graves’ voice rumbled. “So, what sort of art does your cousin do?”

“Oh! She’s a fashion designer,” Credence explained eagerly, proud of Queenie and her incredible work. “She had me try on my Halloween costume, which she’s been working on the last few weeks. It’s so cool, it’s all her idea, this interesting forest spirit ghost… um, here, actually I think I can send you a photo in a minute, it’s kind of hard to describe.”

Graves sounded like he was smiling. “It sounds incredible. I bet you look fantastic in it.” His voice was a low purr, and Credence unexpectedly felt goosebumps travel up his arms. That… was that flirting? Even if it wasn’t, Graves’ voice was naturally so seductive that it was having an effect on Credence’s body. He was already half-hard from his fantasy earlier, and now his cock gave a little twitch as he tried to formulate a reply.

“Yes, um. Her work is amazing. It’s really fun to get to see her process up close and wear something she made. I’m going to try and send the photo now. I think it should be possible while we are still talking, although I’m still getting used to smartphones so I might end up hanging up by mistake. I’ll call right back if that happens, though,” he explained carefully, shakily setting his phone on the table and putting it on speaker. “Can you still hear me?”

“Uh huh,” Graves murmured, “loud and clear. Is this your first smartphone? Good on you for holding out so long.”

Credence had got back to the home screen and was peering down searching for the photos icon. Was it the little windmill thing? “Oh, yeah, actually my first phone in general,” he said absently, managing somehow to open his email by mistake before closing it and getting the photo album open. There was his photo of the very first draft of the chili chocolate dragon, followed by a shot of Tina and Queenie at the aquarium, then Chas and Mod playing with the Grant family dogs in their enormous manicured garden. “My mother didn’t approve of modern technology. I think she would’ve preferred not to even have a land line, but the school insisted that she be reachable.” There. Found it. There was the image of Credence in the costume, standing in front of Queenie’s worktable, saved from the text she had sent yesterday. He tried to remember how to attach the picture to a new message.

“No phone, huh? You were really off the grid, then. There’s something to be said for that, I suppose. Not spending all that time sucked into a screen.”

Credence bit his lip, finally locating the right little icon to send the image in a text. “I suppose so. But I’m glad to have it now in case I miss my bus or something. I used to end up walking home a lot because I couldn’t call for a ride. Not that she would’ve picked me up anyway. According to her, walking home in the rain builds character, and if I was late and my books got wet it was my own fault.” He realized what he had said a moment after he’d sent the text, his mind catching up to his words far too late to take them back. Graves was silent on the other end, likely processing that pronouncement. Credence winced. He really hadn’t meant to get into any of that, or complain about the past, it had just spilled out while he was distracted.

“Huh,” the man said carefully and Credence could hear the frown in his voice, the confusion and worry behind that single syllable. There was a bit of a pause, then he added “But your cousins always make sure you have a ride now, right?” Mercifully, he was giving Credence an out. He seemed to instinctively know that the past was not a topic Credence really wanted to elaborate on yet. 

“Yes,” Credence managed gratefully, his voice slightly breathy. “They do. I… take the bus to work during the week, but they are my backup. We all share Tina’s car.”

“Very efficient.” Credence could hear Graves’ soft breathing on the other end for a moment before he spoke again. “By the way…You can always call me for a ride if you ever need one. Or just to talk, if you wanted… I mean, I’m not always the most reachable during the day but please feel free to try my number any time.”

“Okay,” Credence said softly, “thanks. You too. I might not pick up when I’m at the bakery, but… other than that I usually have my phone on. You know, if you need someone to remind you to stop working and have lunch or something,” he teased. 

The awkward tension of a moment before seemed to be broken. Graves chuckled. “You really have me pegged, don’t you? I will do that, Credence, thank you. And thank you for the photo, I’m about to get it open.”

“Oh! Yes, what do you think?” Credence curled his legs up under him on the couch, getting comfortable, while Graves made a flatteringly astonished sound.

“Holy shit, Credence,” he said, his voice very low and almost a little choked. Was he… was that arousal? “You look beautiful. And also a little scary. But in a really hot way.” 

Credence’s eyes widened. Okay, that was most definitely arousal in his voice. Graves thought he was hot. Credence’s erection had flagged at the mention of his mother, but now it was quickly plumping up again, shocking him a little with the intensity of the sudden eager heat low in his belly.

Graves thought he was _hot_.

“Thanks,” he croaked, unable to keep from letting a little bit of excitement from bleeding into his voice from the compliment. “My cousin’s friend took a bunch of photos and Queenie is going to add it to her portfolio.”

“As she should,” Graves said, in a voice that was almost a purr. “She’s created a great design, and she has a fantastic model to put it on.”

Credence grinned shyly, biting his lip absently before murmuring again, “Thanks.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “What are you going to do for Halloween?”

Graves sighed. “Party at my boss’ house. I’m sure it will be fun, but she ropes me into it every year and I can’t help but want to vary it up. I wish I could come see you instead, but she’d hate it if I missed it. Probably make me join a meditation class this time.”

Credence giggled, enjoying the fond way Graves complained about his boss. It seemed like they were really close, despite the fact that they seemed to pretend to be a bother to each other. “Well, you can text me at least,” he suggested. “Tell me how the party goes.”

“That’s right,” Graves said softly, the smile audible in his voice. “I will do that.” He sighed then. “Unfortunately, Credence, I should probably head back soon. But now that my headache is gone, I bet I can finish that stack of paperwork before lunch. You’ve healed me,” he declared playfully.

“Should I call at noon and remind you, or will you remember to stop and eat?” Credence joked.

“Oh, call and remind me, definitely,” Graves said smoothly. “Any excuse to talk to you is one I will gladly take. Actually…” There was a rustling and a crunching, like Graves had gotten up and was walking over a patch of leaves. “I know this is your day off, so you might not want to, but would you like to join me for lunch? My treat, as a thank you for keeping me company. I could pick you up, or we could meet somewhere you choose. No pressure, though.” He seemed to be keeping his voice very casual, but there was an undercurrent of eagerness there that he hadn’t completely managed to hide.

Credence blinked. Was this a date? The smart thing to do would be to just ask, clarify what Graves’ intentions were, get it out in the open. But what if he was misreading things, and it made their lunch awkward? He wasn’t even sure whether he wanted it to be a date or not. Credence’s cowardly tongue curled up before the question could get out, and instead he just said, “Sure,” his voice slightly breathless. “I’ll text you my address, and we can go somewhere you recommend. I don’t eat out much.”

“Sounds great,” Graves replied, his voice slightly husky. “I’ll pick you up at twelve fifteen. I look forward to it.”

“Me too,” Credence breathed. “See you soon.”

“Bye, Credence,” he said softly, but he didn’t hang up right away. There was the muffled sound of a door slamming and a woman’s voice indistinct in the background, but Credence could still here Graves breathing.

“Bye.” After a moment, Credence hung up the phone, staring down with wide eyes at the full, throbbing erection in his pants. 

Shit. 

He thought the swear word was appropriate for a situation this confusing. He was clearly gone on Newt, completely obsessed with his body and his personality and everything he said and did. But his attraction to Graves might be just as intense in its own way. There was something incredibly arousing about having the attention of such an impressive man, who seemed completely invested in making Credence feel safe and comfortable. Graves was looking out for him in ways that made him feel a sleek tight warmth deep down, made him feel like someone special, precious, cared for. He was gentle and he was unfailingly considerate of Credence’s needs, and it thrilled him all the more because in other aspects of his life he got the sense that Graves was mostly brash and confident and in charge. The softer side that he was allowing Credence to see, the part of him that was going out of his way to hand Credence the reins, to let him set the pace of their developing closeness, made Credence all the more attracted to him. And it didn’t hurt that he had a gorgeous smile and a body that Credence wanted to get his hands and mouth all over.

And he thought Credence was hot. As much as Credence desired Newt, he had seen no sign yet that the sentiment was returned, or that he saw Credence as anything more than a student or a friend, whereas Graves… It seemed that Graves might want Credence quite a lot, and the thought was making his whole body feel fluttery and tight.

What was he going to do? He would’ve thought Newt was his obvious first choice. Not that he had the arrogant luxury of choosing between them, of course. But ever since that first glance, Newt had been all he could see. Or at least it seemed that way. Now he wasn’t sure anymore. His attraction to Graves had been growing in the background all this time, and now it seemed as if it had reached a sudden peak. 

Maybe there was no first choice. There was just Graves and Newt. And he wanted both of them desperately. 

Credence glanced at the clock. It was a ten thirty, still plenty of time until lunch. His cock twitched in his pants. His heart pounding, he texted Graves the apartment’s address, then got up from the couch and slipped into the bathroom, carefully locking the door out of habit despite the fact nobody else was home. It only made a difference insofar as it was an illusory barrier of privacy between him and the outside world, but somehow it made it easier to let loose his carefully restrained desire in here. He turned on the shower and stripped out of his clothes, anticipatory butterflies rampaging in his stomach as he tested the temperature of the water and stepped inside, the hot steam immediately helping him to relax.

This part was nice. He loved the feeling of the water pressure pounding over his scalp, the rivulets that dripped from his hair and poured over his skin. He let his mind wander as he got his hair soaking wet before lathering up with his favorite shampoo, wondering idly if he could get himself some of whatever Newt used, it smelled amazing.

He ran his fingers through his sudsy hair as he pictured Newt in the shower with him, naked and wet, standing behind him and reaching out to take over the scalp massage. Credence’s head fell back as he imagined Newt’s strong, slender fingers working their way over his scalp, then the way Newt would gently guide his head under the water to help him rinse. When he was all cleansed of shampoo, Newt would reward him with a kiss, pulling him close with an arm around his waist.

And then another pair of arms might wrap themselves around the two of them, a deep voice next to Credence’s ear murmuring, ‘He takes such good care of you, doesn’t he? Will you tell him how much you like that?’ Credence’s eyelashes would flutter as one of Graves’ hands ran down his side to caress Newt’s arm where it wrapped around his waist.

‘I love it,’ Credence would murmur dreamily. ‘Newt, I love it when you touch me, any time you hold me, run your fingers through my hair. Thank you.’

‘So polite, isn’t he?’ Graves purred, his body pressed up against Credence’s back, wafting heat, his hand now running up and down Credence’s chest and belly. Newt nodded, obligingly smoothing Credence’s wet hair out of his eyes. Graves went on, his voice a low rumble. ‘Our sweet boy. He’s like a little cat, isn’t he? Loves to be pet.’

Credence was melting backwards into the solid support of Graves’ body, letting himself be limp and pliant as the man’s wandering hands travelled down to his thighs. ‘One of these days we’ll get him nice and lathered up for you, Newt, and you can shave these long legs. Just think about how smooth they would be.’ Newt was bending down now to scoop up the soap, readying a loofah coated in suds.

Newt smiled at Graves, his voice sultry as he replied, ‘Oh, most definitely.’ He leaned in to kiss Credence sweetly, licking at the droplets of water caught on his lips. “Then two of us will match. It feels so nice against the fabric of your clothes, too, baby.’ Newt was rubbing the loofah all over Credence’s body now, his touch sending waves of heady pleasure over his wet skin as he knelt to massage up each leg, then carefully soaped up his aching cock and balls before continuing up his torso. Credence whimpered slightly.

‘Mmm, I like the sound of that,’ Graves was murmuring in his ear, still holding most of Credence’s weight, his hands obligingly moving out of the way of Newt’s cleansing touch. ‘I’d like to get my hands all over both of you at the same time. All that smooth skin.’ Newt was massaging Credence’s chest now, paying special attention to his nipples.

‘I think that would be lovely,’ Newt sighed, carefully twisting the aroused nubs between his fingers and making Credence moan, Graves’ hands now cupping his balls lightly in one broad palm. ‘Baby, give me your arms now.’ Credence obliged, holding out his arms to be scrubbed with the loofah, his inner elbows and underarms tickling a little bit. Then Newt’s soapy hands were massaging his face, gentle and light, before pulling him under the water to rinse off his entire front.

Credence’s cock twitched helplessly when he stepped under the pulse of hot water to wash the suds away, the pressure of the water on his erection almost enough to bring him off, already on edge from the fantasy. Part of him wanted to grab himself with both hands and desperately seek his climax, but instead he imagined Graves holding onto his wrists, preventing him from touching himself as he whimpered softly. ‘Oh, baby, I know. Shh.... Let Newt take his time with you and I promise it’ll feel so good in the end.’

They manhandled him to face the other direction, and Newt began the slow torture of soaping up his backside, scrubbing the loofah up from ankles to ass, then all over his back. Credence was face to face with Graves now, and he imagined the man watching him fondly as Credence blinked water out of his eyes, strong arms wrapping tight around him until they were pressed together, Graves taking his mouth in a tender kiss while his muscled thigh slid in between Credence’s legs and his erection dragged against the man’s hip. Graves swallowed Credence’s hitching cry at the contact, cupping his face and deepening the kiss, licking into his mouth while Newt finished scrubbing his back.

There would be the wet sound of the loofah being wrung out and hung up, and then he would gasp around Graves’ tongue as Newt’s soap-slick hands parted his ass cheeks. ‘Just one more area to clean, pet. You’ve been so good.’ Newt’s voice would be low and melodious, soft and intimate in his ear. He was pressed between Newt and Graves like the filling of the hottest sandwich he could possibly imagine, Newt liberally soaping up the cleft of his ass and sliding his fingers back and forth over his hole. Credence jerked when the fingers massaged little circles around his rim, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his entire body while he trembled against Graves’ chest, held tight and secure in the grip of his arms.

‘There we go,’ Newt murmured, and Credence was once again tugged back under the shower head to be rinsed off, the suds streaming off his body and the hot fall of water teasing his neglected cock. He knew better than to try and touch it this time, keeping his hands obediently on Graves’ chest while his prick twitched and drooled pre-come, and the man watched him with dark hunger in his gaze.

‘What a good boy.’ Graves would kiss him slowly while Newt ran idle fingers over his newly rinsed asshole, clean and wet, and Credence would do his best not to scream at the tease. ‘Oh, baby, so nice and clean and pink.’ Graves pinched a nipple and Credence let out a sob, feeling his need grow somewhat frantic. ‘Newt, I think he’s ready. He’s looking like he’s right on the edge of desperate. Right where we want him to be.’

Newt hummed from behind him, two fingers still tucked comfortably in his cleft. ‘Perfect. Our perfect boy.’

They pulled open the shower curtain and wrapped him in a fluffy towel, gently drying his hair and then rubbing him down everywhere but where he wanted it most. His prick only got the barest hint of a caress from the soft fabric when Graves was drying off his inner thigh, and that was enough to make him hiss in overwhelmed sensitivity. ‘Shh, sweetheart, we’re so close to ready,’ Graves breathed, broad hands guiding him to rest his elbows on the counter and bend over while Newt fished out the little bottle of lube that Credence had carefully hidden in the cabinet, wrapped in a plastic bag and tucked inside a washcloth squeezed behind the shaving cream and deodorant all the way at the back of the pull-out drawer where his cousins wouldn’t look. He hoped. Maybe he was a bit paranoid, but he wasn’t completely used to thinking about these things as normal and allowable yet. Plus, he didn’t want to have another awkward conversation like the one they’d had when a red-faced Tina had accidentally seen one of the tabs on his internet browser and then, determined to be supportive, announced that he was fully allowed to order any sex toys he wanted as long as he was being safe and he didn’t hurt himself and he didn’t leave them lying around.

He had just been looking out of curiosity, in fact, and he still hadn’t had the courage to buy any. But he supposed it was nice to know there weren’t any rules against it, even if he would love to erase that mortifying conversation from his memory.

Now, he allowed himself to imagine Newt slicking up his long, graceful fingers with lube and moving into position behind him while Graves ran a soothing hand down Credence’s back and then gently parted his cheeks, exposing his quivering hole to the warm, steamy air and to Newt’s gaze.

‘What a sweet, tight little ass,’ Graves would growl, and Newt would let out a satisfied hum in response.

Then Credence would be gasping suddenly at the cool touch of lube against his rim, Newt’s fingers rubbing firm little circles around the furled muscle and getting the area nice and slick. Credence was moaning, his hips jerking as he tried to resist pushing back into that hand for more or rutting his cock against the smooth wood of the cabinet. Graves’ grip on his asscheeks would be holding him tight, and Newt would purr, ‘That’s it, hold still for me darling.’

There was a finger pressing against his entrance now, coaxing its way through the tight clench to breach him, twisting slightly, then sliding in and out, slowly but surely moving deeper into his body. The stretch took some getting used to, but the shivering build of pleasure as Newt worked him open made every part of him feel like it was being re-formed into something new, something hot and slick and intense. He became focused on the slide of sensation against the sensitive skin of his rim, the feeling of fullness that came when a second finger joined the first in spearing him, penetrating and exposing him right where he was normally most private. Newt was moving slowly still, making sure he had caught his breath before he resumed his rhythm with both digits, fucking him smoothly while Graves squeezed his asscheeks gently.

‘My god, that’s a delicious picture,’ Graves would rasp. ‘Next time I need to eat that ass.’

Credence’s forehead was pressed down onto his arm on the counter now, hitching moans spilling out of his lips against the steam-moistened countertop while Newt paused to add more lube. He worked the extra slick in around his fingers, then said sweetly, ‘Would you care to join me, Graves?’

There would be a groan of arousal, and then a third finger would join Newt’s in Credence’s ass, slightly thicker than the first two. ‘Fuck, he’s so hot and silky inside,’ Graves rumbled, and Credence would have to turn and look over his shoulder to see the two of them, side by side, caressing his most private place, Graves watching his asshole hungrily as it fluttered around the intrusion and then surrendered to his touch, while Newt looked up and smiled at Credence.

‘Doing alright, baby? Can you take one more?’ Credence was long beyond words at this point. He whined plaintively, his hips jerking slightly and his cock hanging heavy and swollen between his legs, dripping pre-come on the tiled floor. ‘I think you can, darling. Just one more. Graves, what do you think?’

‘I think he can,’ Graves said, his voice velvety soft. ‘Our sweet boy would do anything you say right now, Newt, can’t you see it in his eyes? He wants to come so badly, and he wants to please you more than anything.’

Newt rubbed a soothing hand up Credence’s back, the look in his eyes warm and affectionate. ‘Oh, my darling, you are pleasing me so much right now. Will you take one more of Graves’ nice wide fingers? Then I will make sure you get a reward worthy of your patience.’

Credence, trembling slightly, nodded his head and heard the click of the lube cap again. You could never have too much lube. The fourth finger pressed against his stretched hole, teasing the rim for a moment before sliding inexorably in, making Credence let out a hoarse scream at the feeling of being stuffed so full. He had only ever done three fingers in the past, and adding the fourth gave him a thrill of satisfaction as his ass clenched hard around the penetration and then eventually allowed it to press in further, until all four fingers were fully seated inside as far as they could go.

He was whimpering now, dying to touch his cock. He imagined Newt bending close to kiss his shoulder. ‘Sweetheart, does that feel good? Tell me.’ Their combined fingers were sliding in and out of him now, just bumping his prostate on each thrust in, and sparks were starting to flicker behind his eyes. ‘You want to come?’

Credence bit his lip, struggling to reclaim coherence as he was assaulted with pleasure from the sensation of being fucked. His breath was coming in harsh gasps and his legs were shaking slightly. It was so good it was terrifying, the way he wanted to stay here on the edge forever being played with so lovingly, while he simultaneously wanted to scream with the desire to climax after all this build up. ‘Y-Yes,’ he whimpered. ‘It’s so good. I want to come. Please, Newt.’

‘Alright, baby. You’ve earned it.’ Then Newt’s warm wet hand was wrapping around his dick, giving a gentle squeeze that had Credence letting out several broken sobs. Newt began to jerk his cock, and Credence realized he wouldn’t last more than a second or two longer.

‘I’m gonna… Ohhh!’ Graves had grabbed his balls, and Newt kept up his quick stripping of Credence’s cock, all four fingers in his ass pressed in tight and deep, and then he was melting from the inside out, molten pleasure erupting from his core and spurting all over the cabinet door, the tiles underneath him, and his own abdomen. There was a feeling of blissful disintegration, like he was coming apart in an outpouring of hot pulsing satisfaction, undone and unmade, nothing left but a floating mist and the echoes of his final ecstatic scream.

As the last quivering shocks of his climax worked their way through him, his knees gave out and he slid to the floor. It took longer than usual for him to come back to himself, his heartbeat pounding and his mind hazy with wrung-out sated warmth. There was a small puddle of come on the tiles under him and his newly-clean skin was already sticky again, but he felt both filthy and wonderful. Was that what real sex would feel like, so intense and disorienting? His own self-pleasure sessions were usually perfectly enjoyable, but there was something about this combination of anal penetration and the fulfillment of his desire for emotional closeness with Graves and Newt that had kicked it up several notches, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to resist trying to re-create this again. Many times.

His head was slowly clearing, his heart rate slowing down and his body feeling less like boneless rubber. Shakily, he found his way to his feet and began to clean up, carefully scrubbing the come off the floor and the door of the cabinet before spraying them with a disinfectant that left the room smelling of lemons. Then he ducked back into the shower to wash himself off, soaping up his hands and getting rid of the streaks of ejaculate drying on his front and the slippery coating of lube between his cheeks. He didn’t want to make a mess of his underwear.

When he got out of the shower again, he used a nail brush to make sure his hands were squeaky clean. This kind of fastidiousness had always been in his nature, on top of which he had no desire to leave any uncomfortable hints behind for Tina or Queenie. 

Or Graves. Oh, crap, what if he could tell? Would he know somehow when he saw Credence in less than an hour that he’d just been fingering his own ass? Was there a way to see the signs of it on a person, like some sort of flashing alert that said ‘freshly anally stimulated man here!’ The thought was ridiculous of course, but Credence couldn’t resist scrubbing his hands one more time and then using a large dollop of mango-scented moisturizer massaged into his palms to ensure that absolutely no sensory clues remained. Other than his loosened hole and the bone-deep feeling of satiation that he was carrying with him now.

He quickly combed his wet hair before creeping out into the hallway wrapped in his towel to figure out what he was going to wear. When he got a look at the kitchen clock, Credence squeaked in alarm as he realized he only had fifteen minutes left to get ready. What?! He’d really spent a long time deep in that fantasy.

Credence ended up throwing on the same clothes as yesterday, still clean enough to be presentable, before hurriedly running his electric shaver over his face and impulsively deciding to use Tina’s hair dryer to speed up the process of turning the dripping mess of his hair into something much tidier. He was just dragging a brush through his now-dry hair, distractedly trying to pull on his socks at the same time, when there was a buzz on the intercom from below. Credence nearly fell over trying to reach the speaker, tripping over his boots where they sat ready by the door.

“Hello?” he managed, slightly breathlessly.

“Credence? It’s me,” Graves said through the tinny microphone. “You ready for lunch?”

“Yes,” Credence said quickly, “I’ll be right down, just give me a minute.”

“No hurry,” replied Graves easily. “See you in a bit.”

“Okay.” Credence had finally got both socks on now, shoving his feet into his boots and slipping his phone into the pocket of his wool coat and shrugging it on over his hoodie. He debated over a soft maroon knit beanie that Queenie had made for him, before tugging it on. It was cold out there. For a moment he stood frozen in the door, waylaid by the feeling he was doing something he shouldn’t. He almost never left the house on Mondays when he was on his own, and although he knew there was no reason to feel apprehensive he couldn’t suppress a small flutter of nerves. This was different from interacting with Graves at the gym or in the bakery, where Credence was on familiar turf and accompanied by other people he knew. This was Graves and Credence alone, eating lunch somewhere unknown, with all sorts of exciting and terrifying potential.

This was out of his comfort zone. But it was also something he desperately wanted to try.

Credence locked the door and clutched his key tightly before gathering his courage and heading downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo!!  
> Could it be, at last? An actual _date_? 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and for putting up with how long my chapters are (and how long it takes me to build up to a romantic plot development). :D


	7. Crow Pose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi wonderful readers,  
> I wanted to give you a heads-up that there is a description of a mild panic attack in this chapter. It's three paragraphs long, about three quarters of the way through, in case you'd rather skim or scroll past it.

Graves was waiting for him outside the locked glass doors leading into the lobby, and Credence’s heart immediately began to beat faster as soon as he saw him standing there, the wind ruffling his silver scarf. Their landlady, Mrs. Esposito, had materialized in the entryway and appeared to be interrogating him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

She tended to be suspicious of anyone she didn’t recognize. And plenty of people she did recognize, too.

The cold air hit him as he pushed the door open, interrupting her mid-sentence. “Hello, Mrs. Esposito,” he said, smoothly linking his arm through Graves’ elbow, “I hope you’re having a nice Monday.” Her keen eyes took in his grip on Graves’ arm, the way the man immediately sent him a soft look of pleased surprise and put a gloved hand over Credence’s, and the slight flush he could feel creeping up his cheeks at how handsome Graves looked in his long, elegant coat.

She raised her dark eyebrows, wrinkling the papery brown skin of her forehead. “I am, Mr. Goldstein, thank you for asking. I assume this gentleman is a friend of yours?” Credence always felt a jolt of strange dissociation when he heard her call him by that name. He’d legally changed it, after everything that had happened, wanting to be defined by the family who loved him, not the family who raised him. Plus, Ma would’ve hated the fact that he sounded Jewish now.

“Yes, he is,” Credence replied politely, “This is Mr. Graves, ma’am. I really ought to have buzzed him in, but I was already on my way out to meet him.”

“I see.” Her suspicious look had softened. Tina liked to complain that Credence was the only one who could sweet-talk the landlady into a good mood, but honestly all he did was be courteous. “Well. If I see him again, I will know he’s not coming to try and sell something.” She sniffed. “We get an awful lot of bother from solicitors, you know. Scammers, and the like.” This was said partially to Graves, who made a sympathetic noise and nodded politely. 

Fully mollified, Mrs. Esposito looked him over once again, likely noting the expensive shine of his shoes and the soft cashmere of his grey scarf over that incredible masterpiece of a coat. Really, Graves looked unspeakably handsome, the timeless cut of the wool overcoat making him look like a gentleman straight out of a period movie. “Completely understandable, you wanting to keep an eye on who goes in and out,” the man said in that lovely deep voice, and Credence suddenly felt a bit short of breath. “My apologies for startling you.”

“Oh, not at all,” replied Mrs. Esposito, looking like she no longer minded his presence in the least. Graves was charming without even trying, and she appeared to be far from immune to the effect of those serious dark eyes, the classic good looks and the smooth confident manner. She actually gave them a hint of a smile, so brief as to be almost unnoticeable, before adding, “You two have a nice afternoon now.”

Hiding his amused surprise, Credence wished her the same and tugged Graves away down the stairs, stifling a giddy grin when the man kept his hand over Credence’s in the crook of his elbow, gloved thumb softly rubbing over his knuckles.

“Sorry about that,” Credence murmured once they were out of earshot. Graves was now leading him toward a shiny silver Toyota Prius parked down the street, much newer looking than Tina’s scratched old Honda.

“No problem,” the man replied. “I’m glad to know your building is secured in multiple ways,” he said, grinning slightly as he opened the car door for Credence, who had to bite his lip at a sudden fluttering in his stomach. He slid into the warm interior and watched Graves come around to the driver’s side and remove his gloves, unexpectedly turned on by the way he carefully pulled each finger off one at a time and tucked them neatly into the pockets of his coat. He climbed into his seat and started the car, looking briefly over at Credence.

“I was thinking we could try that Thai place next to the gym, since it is right in the neighborhood. Is that alright with you?” Graves’ question interrupted Credence’s slightly hungry fixation on the man’s hands as he smoothly shifted the car into drive and guided them out into traffic, the confident grip of his knuckles on the steering wheel. “I would’ve liked to bring you somewhere a bit fancier, but that’ll have to wait until some other day when I have more time. I… That is, if I can convince you to eat with me again,” he added, grinning playfully.

Credence thought he would have no trouble being convinced. Just like Mrs. Esposito, he had a soft spot for that grin. “Oh, I think I could be persuaded,” he said, aiming for teasing but ending up sounding rather breathless, his heart pounding at the way Graves’ smile widened.

“Really? Maybe dinner sometime. Whenever you’d like.” They were turning onto a street lined with shops and restaurants, and Credence bit his lip over a giddy grin. “You just let me know.”

“Okay,” Credence replied softly. Maybe he would even have time one of the evenings this week, if Tina and Queenie thought it was alright. After yoga, perhaps, and then Graves could give him a ride home and maybe they would end up kissing on the front step just like in the movies and Graves would pull him close and he would smell so good, and–

Credence realized he was staring at the man’s profile, mostly fixated on his mouth, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. Hurriedly he turned his gaze back to the road, noting that they were about to pass the café where Queenie worked, its cheery windows decorated with delicate fall leaves that one of the artists had likely painted by hand. He peered inside as they drove past, catching a glimpse of the queue of people at the counter and several tables full of customers with their coffees, talking animatedly about something or other. There was someone at the cash register that might have been Queenie, but she was blocked from view by the line waiting to order. 

It was a strange surreal feeling, to be so close by but not see her, to know that she was completely unaware that he was passing on the street, headed toward a lunch that felt all the more thrilling and forbidden for its secrecy. Not that it was really a secret; Credence knew he would no doubt end up telling his cousins all about it tonight. But it was fun to pretend, to slip into the intrigue of it all, to imagine he was the kind of person who went out to lunch with handsome men all the time and had a whole other life outside of home and work.

Graves was waiting at a light to turn onto the street with their gym, its parking lot only half full from what Credence could see. “Would you mind reaching into the glove compartment, Credence?” the man asked, “My member parking pass is inside. Better than trying to find a spot on the street.”

When they had gotten the pass hung neatly from the rearview mirror and Graves had parked them in the corner of the gym lot, the two of them strolled down the crowded sidewalk the rest of the way to the restaurant, Graves’ hand coming to rest lightly on his waist when they had to move to the side to make room for a couple coming the opposite direction. Credence could feel himself blushing slightly, Graves’ palm feeling almost as if it belonged there in the small of his back.

The restaurant was warm and smelled temptingly savory. It must have been a popular place, since most every table was full, but apparently Graves had made a reservation earlier and so they bypassed the line of people waiting for seats and headed straight toward the back corner to a table for two. Credence stared down at his menu, trying to wrap his head around the descriptions of all the dishes and getting a bit lost in all the names he had never heard before and hadn’t the faintest inkling how to pronounce. Ma would never have even considered going out to eat at a restaurant, let alone one that served food that seemed so foreign to her narrow-minded tastes, but Credence loved trying new food. It was one of the keener pleasures he’d come to fully embrace, experimenting with recipes at home with varying degrees of success. Queenie loved to cook as well, and Tina usually managed something simple but delicious, so the three of them got a round sampling of dishes and ate quite well. At least, the starved sharpness that used to harshly define his body and face had long since faded, and everything they served tasted divine to him in comparison to the bitterness of the past.

“See anything you’d like to try?” Graves asked him over his menu. He’d taken off his long overcoat and now he was, if possible, even more elegant and handsome in his perfectly tailored suit, from the impeccable knot of his tie and the pin holding it in place to the crisp way his shoulders filled out the dark jacket. There was a stylish leather watch peeking out from under the starched cuff of his shirt sleeve, and every moment that Credence watched his strong hands flip delicately through the menu his heart pounded a little faster.

“I’ve never had Thai before,” he said, a bit breathlessly. “What do you recommend?” 

Graves sent him a soft, considering look, taking in the way Credence was clutching his menu a bit anxiously. “Do you like your food very spicy?” he asked gently, and Credence, wide-eyed, shook his head. He wasn’t sure yet how hot he liked it, so best to play it safe. “You could go with the green curry, it’s fairly mild and it might be a nice place to start. No coconut allergies, I hope?” Credence shook his head again and Graves added, “It’s what I usually get, too. Sera accuses me of being predictable, but that’s only because she’s been trying to get me to eat the spiciest things on the menu with her wherever we go. She has a weird fixation with peppers.”

Credence grinned tentatively as Graves made a fondly exasperated face. “Did she happen to try one of the chocolate dragons with chili?” he asked, and Graves’ face lit up.

“Actually, yes.” He huffed a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her eat a dessert so fast. She doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, normally. Afterward, she was very keen to know where I got the pastries, but I’ve been trying to keep it a secret just a little longer. You’ve already won her over, which is a feat in and of itself,” he said conspiratorially, “and you’ve given me information I can use to bribe her out of being angry with me when I inevitably piss her off. You’re a miracle worker.”

Credence stifled a giggle. “Glad I could help.” The fine smile lines around Graves’ eyes were making Credence feel a bit breathless again, lost in the warm brown of his irises and the way he was watching Credence with such open affection. He wished they could stay here like this all afternoon. He bit his lip as a thought occurred to him, asking worriedly, “Will she be angry with you for taking off for lunch? Do you need to be back by a certain time?”

Graves shook his head hastily. “Oh, no, she’ll be grateful to you for drawing me out of the office for once. As long as I am back in about an hour, I’ll be just fine. It’s not going to be as long as I would like to spend with you, of course, but there’s no need to rush.” The man gracefully shrugged out of his suit jacket and then pulled up the cuff of his pristine shirt to check the time on his watch, the skin of his wrists looking very tanned next to the white fabric. Credence, feeling rather warm, managed to struggle out of his own coat and hoodie and drape them over the back of his chair, watching the way Graves’ cufflinks glinted in the warm light from the wall sconce next to their table.

“That’s good,” he offered, blushing a little when he caught Graves reading the ‘Free Hugs’ on his tee shirt, but the waiter approached before the man could do more than give him a mischievous grin that Credence desperately hoped would lead somewhere later.

He let Graves take care of ordering, since he knew more about what they were getting anyway, and then the conversation meandered easily through a series of comfortable topics; the bakery, the harder poses they’d been doing in yoga class, the cold snap in the weather, the approach of Halloween. The food, when it arrived, turned out to be delicious, sautéed vegetables and tofu in a creamy flavorful green sauce, and Credence was already hoping he could find a cookbook at the library that might help him make something even half as good at home for Tina and Queenie. He found himself telling Graves about his cousins, how much he loved living with them and how many fun traditions they’d come up with in the past two years. The man seemed fascinated, admitting that he had never been very close with his family growing up. Apparently, he had a brother, but they weren’t on speaking terms anymore and he hardly merited a mention.

“I’m much closer with Sera than my own flesh and blood, to be honest,” he admitted. “But I envy you and your cousins the bond you seem to have. That’s not something every family is able to build.”

They were almost finished eating, pleasantly full and warm, when the topic of discussion took a dip into more dangerous waters. 

“Will you have plenty of time after work on Saturday to get ready for Halloween?” Graves was asking politely. “I’d imagine that costume takes some careful prep beforehand.”

Busily trying to scoot the last bit of rice onto his fork, Credence opened his mouth without thinking and replied, “Yeah, I should be fine. I normally see my therapist after my shift on Saturdays, but we’re taking this week off for Halloween. Her daughter’s going to be a cat, and she’s so excited.” He had swallowed the rice and taken a sip of water before he realized that Graves didn’t know about therapy, or about Zoey, or about all of the reasons why he needed Juliet in the first place. He had learned that there were a range of reactions people had to the idea of therapy, from cloying sympathy and barely disguised discomfort to overly-curious fascination. He raised slightly panicked eyes to take in the man’s expression, relieved to find it thoughtful and not at all pitying or repulsed.

Graves’ eyes were soft and patient, and he nodded once as if to encourage Credence to continue. He found his tongue again. “Her daughter is six,” he explained, sliding around the edge of the topic carefully. “Zoey. She’s a great kid. I get to see her sometimes at her mom’s office when I arrive, or watch her for a while when Juliet stops by the bakery. I’ve… been lucky enough to get to know her over the last two years that I’ve been having sessions with her mom, and I… She reminds me of my little sister, when she was that age. Just… so imaginative and fearless and curious about everything.”

Modesty had been a force of nature for a while when she was quite a bit younger, when Ma would still let her get away with daring to ask questions about everything and playing make-believe witches with wands made of twigs. And then she had gotten older, and obedience and duty had become a heavier burden on her thin shoulders, and that wild creative spark had been slowly snuffed out in front of Credence’s eyes while he watched, powerless to stop it.

Graves was watching him carefully, attentive dark eyes fixed on his face. “Kids are pretty amazing, aren’t they? They’re willing to try a lot of things that adults are afraid to, I think. Somehow they’ve got less fear of failure, or maybe they just haven’t developed all the insecurities and other issues we seem to acquire with age. I think most adults have at least a few,” he said wryly. 

Credence huffed a laugh. That was certainly true, especially in his case. Life had started out bleak and had gotten more and more thorny and twisted as he got older, corrupting Credence into a shadow of himself. A whirling storm of anxiety and repression with a bitter crackling center of self-hatred. But that seeping foulness had begun to retreat these past two years, finally, leaving him drifting like a wisp of cloud unused to being so weightless, able to rise above all those awful thoughts and feelings from before. 

“Or more than a few. Issues,” he rasped, absently tensing a little as he flicked his eyes in Graves’ direction and valiantly managed to meet his gaze and hold it. “Especially if their childhood wasn’t… very happy. Or safe, or stable.” His shoulders gave a little twitching shrug. “Like mine. Hence the therapy.” Alluding to this had never gotten easier, no matter how many times he had talked through the realities of his upbringing with Juliet and his cousins; the phrases ‘domestic abuse’ and ‘child neglect’ still remained just as bitterly distasteful any time he so much as thought about them. He usually avoided this topic like the plague with anyone but Juliet but something about the way Graves was watching him with such open acceptance was making him feel bold. Saying it aloud, even in such vague terms, felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest.

He could only tell that the man was upset by his words from the slight widening of his eyes and the way he seemed to be trying to resist asking a question, his handsome face serious and intent and a little bit sad. He hesitantly brushed his fingers over the back of Credence’s hand where it was resting on the table, settling his warm palm over Credence’s skin and just sort of holding it there, an unspoken offer of support.

“Do you find that it helps?” Graves asked quietly, rubbing his thumb gently across Credence’s knuckles. 

Credence swallowed, letting the tight clench of his fist ease under the man’s soothing caress. “Yes,” he whispered. “My sessions with Juliet have helped me more than I could’ve ever imagined. To see things more clearly, and… leave the past behind.” He let his fingers relax open a bit more so that their hands could fit together, Graves carefully wrapping his tanned fingers around Credence’s pale, scarred palm, a look of something that might be reverence on his face. His grip was just firm enough to make Credence feel comforted, grounded by the contact, steady and sure.

“I’m glad to hear that. She sounds like she’s an excellent therapist.” Graves’ rich voice still had a hint of concern in it, but he seemed to be refraining from prying any further until Credence was ready.

Credence couldn’t help but smile at him, both because of the question and because he was being so wonderful. “Oh, yes, Juliet is the best. As a therapist and a friend.” Graves’ thumb was back to rubbing comfortable circles over his skin, making Credence feel a bit warm and floaty inside. “She’s the best mom, too. Zoey has it so good.” There had been a few ugly moments at the beginning when he’d felt desperately jealous, in fact, that Zoey got to grow up with a mother that loved her unconditionally, who supported her and encouraged her dreams and gave freely from the unending wellspring of her affection. It was so sweet to watch them together that it had hurt, bitterly, at first. But how could he resent Zoey? She was just like any other kid, innocent and curious about the world and seeking reassurance in the form of her mother’s love.

Graves was watching him fondly. “I bet this Zoey loves hanging out with you.”

Credence’s smile widened when he remembered a slow day at the bakery two weeks ago when Zoey had insisted that Credence read her a story in the back, her small form perched comfortably in his lap and her hand playing absently with the hair tie around his wrist as she chattered about what was going on in the book’s illustrations, inventing her own narrative that took over the story and ended up making very little sense to Credence, although he was sure it was perfectly clear in her own mind. Juliet had grinned fondly over her mug of tea where she sat chatting with Jacob, watching Zoey tug Credence out of his chair so that they could now act out the characters she had made up. She’d had no fear of repercussion, no sense of limitation to her instinct to create, no worries that her mother would ever, under any circumstances, love her with anything less than all of her heart because of anything she did or said or wanted to be. It was all as it should be. And Credence had learned to be happy just getting to witness it, watching mother and daughter together, pulled effortlessly into Zoey’s orbit and somehow feeling like she was healing him too. 

The waiter had dropped off their check while Credence was lost in the memory, and Graves squeezed his hand once more before letting him go to take care of the bill, leaving his cold palm feeling a bit bereft. When they wandered out onto the sidewalk, however, freshly bundled up in their coats, he noticed that the man hadn’t put his gloves back on and that he seemed to be gauging whether Credence would be receptive to renewing the contact, his eyes flicking to their casually swinging hands as they walked back to the car.

Warm with delight, Credence slyly caught Graves’ hand as it brushed past his and slid his own into its grip, and the incredible smile that he got in return made him feel like he was floating, tethered to the ground only by Graves’ dry palm pressed against his, their fingers lacing together perfectly. He pressed himself closer, until their shoulders were brushing too, walking the last few yards to the car with a bounce in his step. Graves unexpectedly brought their joined hands up to his mouth to kiss the back of Credence’s hand, his lips soft and warm.

There was a blush flaming in his cheeks, he knew, but Credence didn’t care. He was staring at Graves’ mouth, eyes drawn helplessly to the way it was twitching with a smile. When he managed to drag his gaze up to Graves’ dark eyes, he found himself being watched hungrily.

“Credence,” the man said, slightly hoarsely, “I’m so glad you could join me today.” They were still very close together, their hands tightly laced, Graves’ free hand now rising to gently brush a thumb over Credence’s cheek. He could barely breathe. He drank in the man’s dark eyebrows, his long lashes, the faint lines etched around his eyes, and the golden brown of his irises, rich warm amber.

“Me too,” Credence whispered. “Lunch was wonderful. Thank you very much for treating me,” he couldn’t help adding, his good manners always instinctively close at hand.

But Graves was shaking his head. “No, please, I… Thank you. For keeping me company and telling me… about you. I’m… always interested in anything you’re willing to tell me.”

Credence’s free hand had decided of its own volition to test the softness of Graves’ scarf, shyly resting a palm over the expensive material where it hung down the man’s chest and lightly tangling his silver-tipped fingers in its luxurious folds. “Likewise,” he breathed, “I always wish we didn’t have to stop talking after class,” he murmured. Graves’ other hand was sliding smoothly up to his waist, resting feather-light in the small of his back just like the time he’d steadied Credence after yoga had left him dizzy. Graves was always steadying Credence, it seemed, and yet he didn’t press for anything, not intimacy or information. Ever. 

Like a true gentleman, he left that up to Credence. 

Which meant that if he was ready for a kiss, he was going to have to take it himself.

There was an urgent need, a fiery curiosity and desire building in his chest that was fast consuming him. Credence watched Graves carefully as he deliberately leaned a bit closer, sliding his hand up to the man’s shoulder and taking in the way his pupils dilated and his lips parted softly. And then he was doing something he’d never imagined having the courage to do, confidently cupping Graves’ cheek and leaning in to place a warm, lingering kiss on his mouth, the man’s grip on his waist tightening as their lips softly explored each other for a moment before pulling away. They were pressed together now, Credence letting go of Graves’ hand to rest both palms on his broad shoulders, helplessly lost in his eyes and the incandescent wonder spreading across his face now as he stared back. The man’s strong arms felt even better around him than he’s imagined, winding comfortably around his back and holding him there, not so tight that he couldn’t break away if he wanted.

Oh, but getting away was the last thing on his mind. “Credence,” Graves rasped, his eyes dark with desire and joy, and he couldn’t help but kiss him again, a little more firmly this time, winding his arms happily around his neck as their lips pressed together, warm and moist and slightly open, a tiny hint of Credence’s tongue producing a purr of delight from Graves and a hand sliding up his back to pull him even closer. Graves was standing with Credence fully draped against his front now, the thick material of their winter coats preventing much in the way of direct contact between their bodies but the tingling intimacy of it still making Credence feel a bit woozy. His cock was half-hard, even recovering from the intense orgasm he’d had before lunch, and he felt it twitch slightly when Graves took the invitation of his parted lips to give a little lick into his mouth.

He let out a soft moan, delighting in the wet slide of the man’s tongue as it teased the tip of his own while their lips dragged pleasurably against each other. Graves tasted of coconut curry, desire, and sweet reciprocation. 

The kiss was over far too soon, in Credence’s opinion, but then again anything short of making out all day was going to feel too short, no matter that they were in the parking lot of the gym. There was a wolf whistle or two, and then a man’s voice shouting from the other end of the parking lot, “Yeah, get it!”

Startled, they broke apart, Credence unable to stop himself from turning wide eyes toward the source of the whistles, who turned out to be three college-aged guys in workout gear heading to a truck. “Oh shit,” one of them said, laughing in surprise, “did not realize that was a dude.” His friend elbowed him in the ribs, hollering suggestively, “Have a nice afternoon!” before all three of them piled into the truck. Blushing fiercely, Credence let Graves guide his chin back around to face him, his eyes concerned.

“Did they make you uncomfortable?” The man looked like he was about ready to storm over to that truck and shout at them if Credence said the word. Surprisingly, though, he didn’t much care what a couple of frat bros thought. They were not exactly being insulting, just immature, and Credence had had to deal with plenty of people in the past who truly meant to make him feel degraded. In comparison, this was harmless. 

“No,” he murmured, “Just startled me.” He sighed. “But I have to let you get back soon, don’t I? I suppose we should go.” He was aware that he was pouting slightly, which Graves seemed fascinated by. The man brought a thumb up to gently rub over his bottom lip.

“Oh, sweetheart, I hope you know I would gladly abandon the rest of my work day to stay with you if I could,” he purred, and Credence shivered slightly.

“But Sera would punish you with forced meditation classes?” Their heads were bowed together, Graves’ thumb now tracing his jaw, close and intimate.

The man huffed a laugh, nuzzling in for one last brief kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You are right about that. She wouldn’t appreciate me skipping out on the prep for the presentation we are giving tomorrow morning.” Graves sighed, stroking a hand through Credence’s hair. “Damn it, I guess I do actually have to go back.”

Credence reluctantly unwound himself from Graves’ body, perking up as he said “At least I get to see you in yoga in a few hours.” 

Graves unlocked the car, smiling at him warmly. “That’s true. I will be looking forward to it all afternoon.” 

Credence bit his lip as the two of them slid into the car, his stomach filling with butterflies at the thought. What would yoga be like now that he and Graves were exploring something more physical? Would Newt be able to tell? The thought dampened his blissful high from the kisses, reminding him what a worryingly complex situation he had landed himself in.

Right. What about Newt? 

That was the main question, the only reason he was now feeling like his heart was made of lead despite the fact that he was also ecstatically happy. Would Newt be hurt because Graves was with Credence? Would this ruin their friendship, and the only chance Credence had of being close to him, even if it was just platonic? He wanted Newt’s affection in whatever form he could get it, and now he felt icy panic running through his veins at the thought of losing that, of alienating the wonderful, beautiful man who had held him so close at the photoshoot yesterday and accepted him unconditionally, scars and all.

His mood was rapidly souring, but Credence tried not to let it show as they passed the short car ride in silence, Graves occasionally looking over at him, perhaps wondering why he had suddenly clammed up. He just couldn’t think of anything to say, nothing that would explain the mess he had blundered into without revealing too much or hurting the man’s feelings. None of this was Graves’ fault, after all, and Credence felt horribly guilty that he was thinking about Newt so soon after kissing Graves. What a terrible way to repay the man for his generous kindness in taking him out to lunch. 

What the hell was he going to do?

Newt wanted Graves, and Credence wanted both of them to be happy. But what was he supposed to do when apparently what made Graves happy was Credence himself? Credence wanted Newt, and Newt was interested in Graves, and Graves seemed completely into Credence. It was a mess, made no simpler by the fact that Credence also was keenly attracted to Graves in return. Was he a horrible, terrible person, for desiring two men at once?

The panicked swirl of his thoughts was interrupted by Graves’ voice, somewhat hushed. “You alright there, Credence?”

He realized that he had been absently twisting the hem of his coat into a little roll, his eyes locked on his lap, and that they were almost to his building already. Graves was watching the road, but there was carefully hidden dismay in the tension around his mouth and the uncertain way he glanced at Credence when they stopped at a red light. Shit. What must he think of Credence now? The man was witnessing him freaking out after one or two kisses, and was probably realizing what an unappealing prospect it would be to date someone who had so many sources of anxiety, someone so insecure and unpredictable, someone who couldn’t even do something as simple as commit to one man for the space of an hour. Hot shame choked him, building like a knot in this throat.

“I’m fine,” he lied, doing his best not to sound devastated. Why on earth had he thought he could do this? How had he ever come to the conclusion that he was ready for a relationship when he couldn’t even get through a short lunch date without having a mini panic? He had no clue what he was doing, none at all, no experience whatsoever. His fear of making a misstep loomed large, forcing all other thoughts from his mind. Was going out with Graves to lunch today a declaration of his intentions? He had no idea what unspoken conventions there were for something like this. What had he committed to, and what was he supposed to do if this continued? Go out with Graves on more dates where he would be guiltily thinking about Newt half the time and be constantly on edge over being found out?

No, that would be terrible for both of them. Graves deserved someone who was completely focused on only him. Now why couldn’t Credence just manage to do that? Erase Newt from his thoughts? He bit the inside of his cheek as they pulled into a parking spot in front of his apartment and Graves put the car in park, feeling the heat of his gaze on the side of his face. Maybe… maybe he could try one more time. The man probably would want a kiss goodbye, wouldn’t he? He certainly deserved one after paying for lunch and listening to him so attentively. Credence would kiss him and he would picture only their possible future together, the way they seemed to fit so well. No Newt, no matter how much it hurt to cut him out of his affections.

He schooled his expression and made himself turn, but when Credence started to lean in for a kiss he was stopped by one gentle hand on his shoulder, Graves’ eyes unreadable and his brow furrowed. No more arousal there. Completely mortified, Credence pulled back, his panic returning full force and his face twisting in dismay. Had he already messed it up so badly that Graves didn’t want to kiss him? He didn’t know how this had all gone so wrong, or what to do now. Useless. He was useless, just like Ma used to tell him, flawed and sinful, a lazy immoral boy, a burden. Her voice rang in his head, clanging against his skull like a battering ram. Oh God, he couldn’t even escape it now after two years of therapy; was he so damaged that he would never be free of her awful words, and nobody would ever want to date him? The air in the car was suddenly very thick, pressing in on him from all sides, and Credence felt like he was falling off a cliff.

“Whoa, hey,” Graves said quickly, “Credence, hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rebuff you.” He was cupping Credence’s cheek in one warm palm. Credence gasped out a tiny sob, humiliated and lost. “No, please, sweetheart, I’m sorry. You just didn’t seem all that comfortable and I thought you were kissing me out of obligation. I… That is the last thing I want, for you to do something like that because you feel you have to. For you to feel like you owe me something. You never do, okay?” He turned off the car completely and turned in his seat, trying to offer comfort. But Credence was busily gasping in breath, trying to hold off the escalation of his momentary fear into a full-blown anxiety attack, feeling stupid and awful for making such a big deal over nothing while Graves swore and yanked the car door open, rushing around to the other side to pull Credence out of his seat and into the chilly air, fresh and bracing.

“Just breathe, that’s it.” He was rubbing Credence’s back and letting him clutch his arm tightly with both hands, his voice soothing and calm. “Match with my exhales, there we go.” Graves’ coat was slightly scratchy and the air was very cold, and Credence focused himself on the sensations and the sound of the man’s breathing, steady and sure, as his airways eventually stopped their rebellion and his heartbeat slowed down. After several moments, the crushing feeling was gone and all he felt was embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, feeling sunken and heavy all of a sudden, drained of energy by the rapid whiplash of emotion. Graves was still running his hand up and down Credence’s back, and he couldn’t resist sagging into the firm support of his body, unable to meet his eyes but desperately in need of the comfort. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled again into the soft material of Graves’ scarf, and the man hushed him gently.

“Shh, sweetheart, there is nothing to apologize for,” he said calmly, as Credence did his best to burrow into the join of his neck and shoulder, clutching at the lapels of his coat while Graves wound both arms around him and gathered him close. “Alright,” he murmured, “It’s alright.”

“No,” Credence breathed miserably, “I’ve ruined our lunch. And our… our…” Our date. Our kiss. Our potential for more. “I will understand if…. If you don’t want to try again…”

“No,” Graves countered, “Nothing is ruined, Credence. Please, listen to me.” Credence sniffled quietly as the man continued. “I was worried for you, and I do want to know what made you uncomfortable back there, but no reaction of yours is ever going to make me lose interest or anything ridiculous like that.” He was cupping the back of Credence’s head over the soft knit of his hat, fingers running through his hair. “I get the impression that this is all new to you, and that can be overwhelming. If you need to step back and take a breath, I’m not going to go anywhere.” The rumble of his voice vibrated through his chest under Credence’s hand.

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I am making a mess of things already,” Credence admitted into the soft cashmere of the man’s scarf, lulled by the fingers stroking his hair. “I am probably going to be terrible at this,” he said, so quietly it was almost inaudible, his grip on Graves’ coat tightening in counterpoint to his words, “and I am worried you will be disappointed.” The threat of Graves losing interest, of growing fed up with Credence’s insecurities and his inexperience and deciding to move on to someone more worth his time, was even more awful than the idea of seeing him with Newt. Maybe it really would be best to let them be together.

“Credence,” the man breathed into his ear, sounding pained, “that’s not going to happen. There is absolutely nothing disappointing about you. Nothing wrong with being new to this and needing to take time to figure out what you want. I’m not going to drop you like a hot potato just because you have doubts. That’s normal, sweetheart, and all I want is to make sure we go at your pace. If you’re not sure you want to keep dating, that’s okay too, you’ve still got me in your corner, alright? I want whatever kind of relationship with you is on the table, even if it’s just casual platonic friendship, or hey, even non-platonic friendship, whatever feels right to you. But please don’t feel like you have to make any decisions out of fear of my expectations. I don’t have any, I promise. Other than that we respect each other and don’t do anything that either one of us isn’t one hundred percent into.” He sighed deeply and ran his hand down Credence’s spine and back up again. “I am very attracted to you, but that doesn’t mean I want favors from you, or… for you to take steps that you don’t feel good about. Not ever, okay?”

Minutely, Credence relaxed, his voice still small as he murmured, “How are you so wonderful?” It was a sincere question, despite the way Graves huffed a dark laugh when he heard it. How on earth had Credence gotten so lucky as to find himself in the good graces of someone so perfect and understanding?

“Oh, believe me, I’m not,” Graves murmured, a hint of self-recrimination in his low voice. “I am very selfish. I don’t want to lose you, neither your friendship nor whatever else you decide you’d like to try. Plus, this is how all relationships work, at least the ones that manage to last and be meaningful. They are messy and need lots of patience and communication. It’s worth it,” he whispered fervently. He pressed a kiss to Credence’s temple. “I’m not virtuous, or noble, or anything approaching what you seem to think of me. I’m not even all that good at being pleasant or kind, especially not to my co-workers. You… I’m lucky you are even willing to put up with me at the gym, let alone spend time with me outside of class. I’m the one who should be worried about disappointing you.”

Credence finally re-surfaced from Graves’ shoulder to give him an incredulous look, his eyelashes a little bit wet. “That’s ridiculous,” he said softly and slightly petulantly, “you are very kind, and noble. And I love spending time with you.” It was astonishing, he thought, that the man’s perspective of himself was so skewed. Was that just how everybody saw themselves, their worst possible attributes exaggerated? He traced a finger gently over the edge of Graves’ jaw, watching a soft look spread across the man’s face. “If I promise to try and stop thinking of myself as inadequate, will you do the same?”

Graves’ eyes widened, his thick eyebrows rising. “Alright,” he rasped, “it’s a deal. And we will both promise to be honest about what we want and don’t want?” Credence swallowed hard, and Graves added in a feverish whisper, “Please don’t just indulge me, I couldn’t bear that. If you don’t feel like kissing me, then don’t. It makes me feel like shit to imagine you doing anything just because you think I want it.”

Credence felt acid rise in his stomach. He had done that, almost. Made himself kiss the man despite the fact he was upset, not considering the way Graves would feel about his insincerity. Anguished, he murmured, “I promise,” his voice cracking, “I’m sorry.”

“Good, I promise too,” the man breathed, then cupped his cheek quickly when Credence’s eyes became a bit glossy, “Oh, hey, wait. Whoa, no, earlier was not your fault. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. Shit, that’s not what I meant at all,” he swore, delicately wiping at the wetness on Credence’s cheek away with a thumb, “You see, I’m bad at this. Communication. Plain emotional transparency.” He winced in dismay. “I’m going to keep working on it, if you decide you want to stick around to see me try to learn. Can’t be worse than falling out of crow pose or trying meditation.”

That earned a watery laugh from Credence, who threw his arms around Graves’ neck and hugged him tightly. “We’ll work on it together, then,” he said into the warm skin of the man’s neck. “And in the interest of communication, I want you to know I enjoyed kissing you before, in the parking lot.” He tucked a tiny kiss into the private warmth just under the collar of his coat, before taking a deep breath. “But in the car just now, I was preoccupied, worrying about… my own issues. And I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you when I wasn’t fully in it. I won’t do that again.” 

Graves was rubbing his back again, firm and soothing. “I appreciate that,” he said quietly. 

Credence stayed tucked into his neck until his cheeks were dry and he mostly felt composed again. Drawing on his slowly returning courage, he pulled back and looked him straight in the eyes. “I do want to kiss you now, though, and not out of any sense of obligation. Just because I like you, and because you’ve made me feel so at ease being myself. And you’ve got nice lips,” he added cheekily, still managing to hold a straight face.

Graves let out a shocked chuckle and Credence broke into a helpless smile, comfortably settled against him so close that he could feel the shake of his laugh reverberate through both of their bodies, his arms still twined around the man’s neck. “Well,” Graves said, grinning, “in that case. My lips are all yours.”

Credence started off with a soft, chaste peck, then pressed their foreheads together and whispered, “You can squeeze me a little tighter, if you want. I like it. I like your arms, how strong they are. Feels nice.”

“Holy shit,” Graves breathed in surprise, “alright.” He obligingly tightened the arms that had been wrapped loosely around Credence’s waist until he felt enclosed and secure, held intimately as he pressed forward for another kiss, deeper this time. He moaned a little when he coaxed Graves’ tongue into his mouth and one of the man’s hands clutched the back of his coat a little desperately, the two of them tasting and exploring eagerly. His lips were smooth and his jaw was rough and the cavern of his mouth was so hot, and Credence was already a little bit addicted to the delicate slick feel of his tongue.

They broke apart reluctantly after several moments of lovely warm wet snogging to pant in the cold air, Credence once again feeling a deep tug of arousal in his belly, his cock hardening in his jeans.

“Baby, I could kiss you all day,” Graves said breathlessly. “At least I wish I could, damn it.”

“But you need to go,” Credence finished quietly, resigned, the pet name sending a shivery tickle through him as their warm exhales mingled in the small space between their lips.

Graves pressed a feather-light kiss to Credence’s bottom lip and murmured, “Yeah.” He sighed. “I don’t want to.”

Credence bumped their noses together and whispered, “I know.” Another soft kiss. “But you will see me tonight.”

“Mmm,” Graves breathed, sinking back into the kiss for a moment, his arms still tight around Credence’s waist. “But that’s hours away,” he said petulantly. “And you taste so good.” The warm drag of lips was addicting, syrupy sweet and enticing, time losing its meaning as Credence moaned blissfully around Graves’ tongue.

There was a chirping trill from Graves’ pocket, and the two of them grudgingly resurfaced once more so he could fish out his phone. “Damn it, it’s a text from Sera.” He winced. “Alright, alright. Last one.” And Credence let out a happy mewl of surprise as he was kissed firmly one more time before they unwound from each other and drifted apart, Graves standing there watching as Credence walked back up toward the apartment, his lips feeling hot and swollen.

“See you tonight,” he said, smiling dreamily as Graves grinned back.

“See you, Credence.” His voice was low and silky.

And then Credence made himself turn away from the sight of Graves in his handsome coat, his dark gaze both hungry and affectionate. 

There was heat warming his very core. He didn’t stop smiling for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray!  
> Some progress toward actual romantic conquest :D
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	8. Cobra Pose

Yoga that evening was interesting, to say the least.

Credence had jacked off furiously when he got back to the apartment to the lingering feeling of Graves’ kisses and his body pressed so close, warm arms wrapped tight around him and his low voice muttering, “Baby, I could kiss you all day.”

The rest of the afternoon had been spent dreamily making a pot of beef stew and then trying his best to focus on homework while its flavors thickened on the stove, attempting to concentrate on summarizing the textbook chapter he was reading rather than drifting back into a daydream of kissing Graves. And also Newt. His confusing swirl of amorous fantasies had not become any clearer yet, but he carefully shuffled those thoughts to the side while he finished his assignment, unable to figure out a solution right now.

He wanted both of them, was the honest truth. And not only physically. He was smitten with both of them, if it wasn’t too soon to say so, Newt’s fearless shy beauty and Graves’ bold handsome strength.

When it was time to head to the gym, Credence didn’t let himself dwell on his anxious thoughts, pulling his yoga pants on and doing his best to braid his hair the way Queenie had showed him.

“You have a good day, Bambi?” Tina asked as she yanked on her tennis shoes in the living room. She only had a few minutes at home to change after work in order to get to the gym by five thirty, and Credence was glad for the hurried atmosphere and the way it prevented him from thinking too closely on what might happen tonight. 

“It was interesting,” he said enigmatically, biting his lip.

“Oh yeah?” Tina breathed distractedly, tying her own hair back into a ponytail and leading the way downstairs to the parking garage.

He braced himself. “I think I went on a date,” he said quietly, and he could hear the delayed moment that the words sank in, Tina’s head snapping up.

“What?” Tina goggled. “With who? Newt?”

“Um,” Credence managed, before she gasped theatrically. 

“Or was it with the older guy?”

Credence resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Graves. His name is Graves, not ‘the older guy.’ I told you, he’s not old.”

Tina’s eyes were wide as she started the car, turning to watch him carefully. “So it was him? He was interested after all?”

Credence sighed fondly. “Yes, yes. You were right, and Queenie was right. I think he was sending me signals all along. I just didn’t notice at first.”

Tina still looked completely disarmed. “So… So you decided you were interested in dating him, and it went well? You… He didn’t do anything inappropriate, did he?”

“No,” Credence said firmly, “I told you, he’s a gentleman.” He couldn’t help the dreamy smile that spread across his face as he remembered just how gentlemanly and handsome Graves had looked in his suit.

Their conversation paused for a while as Tina maneuvered them through rush hour traffic, picking up Queenie on the curb outside the café, already changed into workout gear with her gym bag over her shoulder. And then, of course, he had to catch her up on his news as well, wincing slightly when she squealed in his ear.

Queenie’s voice was shrill with delight. “Oh, Bambi! That’s wonderful, honey.”

“Yes,” Tina spluttered, “So, um… What about Newt?”

Credence’s grin faded a bit and Queenie quieted, watching him carefully in the rear-view mirror. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I still like him. But I don’t think he sees me that way. Um… romantically,” he clarified. “If he does, though, I… I don’t really know what to do next. I’m really, really interested in both of them,” he confessed, slightly hopelessly. It was a weighty relief, getting that off his chest. “And I don’t really know how to deal with that.”

His slightly wild eyes found Queenie’s, and she immediately squeezed his shoulder, wrapping her arm over the seat. “That’s a real pickle, honey. I suppose you’re gonna have to just go forward carefully. Be honest, be patient, and make sure you keep everyone’s feelings in mind.” Credence breathed out slowly. Yes. That’s what he would do. 

Tina nodded. “I know you will be careful, Bambi,” she murmured. “I hope things work out whichever way ends up making you the most happy.” She sounded a bit concerned, but when he looked up at her she grinned at him and he knew she would support him no matter what. Because his cousins were amazing like that. 

The three of them sat in silence for a while as Tina waited to make a right turn, stuck behind a never-ending flow of traffic. “Are you excited to see them tonight?” Queenie whispered in his ear, and Credence blushed hotly. “Ooh, I’m gonna take that as a yes,” she giggled. “So, this Graves. What does he look like? Handsome?”

Credence had thought his blush couldn’t get any hotter, but somehow it managed to flame even higher as he admitted, “Very handsome.”

“Oh yeah?” Queenie coaxed eagerly.

Credence bit his lip over a grin. “He’s gorgeous, actually. He was wearing a really nice suit when we met for lunch, and he looked like an old-fashioned movie star. Classic good looks.”

“Ooh, a suit. Teenie seems to have a thing for suits, too,” she giggled. “Sounds like you both have a taste for power.”

“Um, maybe, but…He… He looks just as good in his sports gear too,” Credence mumbled, “He’d probably look elegant in anything. It’s just the way he carries himself.”

“Self-importantly?” Tina asked, looking a little skeptical.

“No, no, that’s not it. He’s not full of himself,” Credence countered hurriedly. “It’s more that he’s… capable. And smart and put together. He’s confident and he’s good at talking to people, but he doesn’t monopolize the conversation. We spent most of lunch talking about me, actually. He really… is a very good listener.”

Queenie sighed happily. “Oh, that’s wonderful, Bambi. He sounds downright dreamy.” Her smile grew a little sly. “Did he kiss you?”

“Queenie!” Tina yelped, and Credence’s face flamed, a helpless smile spreading across his face.

“Oho, I think that means he did! Or did you kiss him?” 

There was a pause, and then Credence nodded, still blushing hard but determined not to be cowed by it. “I kissed him,” he said, marveling at the words as he said them aloud, “several times.”

Queenie shrieked and Tina looked a little shocked. “What will you do when you see him tonight?” Queenie asked eagerly, which Credence didn’t really have an answer for. What would tonight be like? Newt would be there, and the whole class, and he didn’t feel comfortable kissing Graves again in front of all of them, but he hoped they could enjoy each other’s company regardless.

“Queens, make sure you don’t tease him when we get there,” Tina said sternly, and Queenie gaped at her in the rearview mirror.

“I’m not an idiot, Teenie. I’m not going to try and embarrass him in front of the guy.” She sounded genuinely offended.

“Okay,” Tina said, raising her hands in supplication. “Just making sure you know where the line is.”

The rest of the ride to the gym was slightly tense, Queenie quiet in the back seat. When they were walking through the doors, she asked suddenly, “Do I usually go too far? Is that what you meant?” Tina frowned at her in confusion. “What you said before. That I don’t know where the line is. Have I crossed it before? With you and… her?” 

Tina flushed. “No, I don’t know. It’s just… certain things are easy for you. That are hard for Credence and me. I think sometimes when you get carried away you forget that,” she whispered quietly, looking a bit uncomfortable to be having this conversation here, her eyes darting to the people on the ellipticals as they passed, making sure they weren’t listening. Credence knew how she felt. He hated the idea of strangers’ attention being on him, or listening in on his private worries. He nearly always felt as if everyone was watching him whenever he spoke about anything sensitive in public, and the feeling escalated whenever he was feeling panicked, like he was pinned by the weight of their stares, their judgement. Queenie, on the other hand, was completely at ease in the center of attention.

“What things?” she asked, lengthening her stride a bit to catch up to Tina.

“We will talk about it at home,” Tina said shortly, turning to Credence. “Meet you here after class?” He nodded, brow furrowing unhappily as Queenie stared at her sister.

“Why? What does that mean? You don’t trust me to speak appropriately in front of other people?” Queenie asked, hurt and exasperated.

“No, that’s not it,” hissed Tina tightly, “I just don’t want to talk here. Not everything is about _you_.” She turned and strode quickly into the kickboxing studio, cutting off Queenie’s half-voiced protest.

“What was that about?” Queenie asked Credence, staring after Tina incredulously. “Why is she so infuriatingly sensitive?”

Credence bit his lip, twisting his hands nervously. His cousins rarely fought, but when they did it set him right on edge and a gnawing disquiet began to grow in his chest. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that frustration and anger no longer meant impending punishment, and that no matter what, they all loved each other. But it hurt a little, to hear her say that. He was sensitive too, after all.

“Just let her calm down,” he said anxiously. “Then we can all talk at home where she feels more comfortable. That’s really all she needs. Some privacy.”

Queenie’s expression softened as she turned and took in the stressed hunch of his shoulders under his hoodie. “Alright. Some days I think you understand her better than I do.” Her face grew concerned when Credence didn’t so much as crack a smile. “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll get things worked out, honey.”

He nodded stiffly. “I know,” he said quietly. “Um. See you after class.”

She reached out and tugged on his hoodie string. “Okay. You let me know how it goes tonight! With… you know who,” she whispered conspiratorially.

But he found he couldn’t muster much in the way of a response, feeling a little too locked up and vulnerable here with the other kickboxers walking right past them. “Mm hm,” he managed stiffly, before retreating hastily toward the stairs with one last wave, leaving Queenie looking after him, a little bit bewildered.

The tight feeling in his chest eased slightly when he entered the yoga studio and saw Graves waiting for him, waving him over to a space on the floor next to him, which he had possessively marked with his gym bag to ensure it would stay reserved for Credence. Credence grinned shyly as he approached, tugging off his hoodie and folding it neatly before rolling out his mat. “Hi,” he said. Graves was smiling warmly back at him, his eyes following the motion of Credence's fingers as he unlaced his shoes and pulled off his socks.

“Hey,” the man replied with a small private smile, “I thought I’d lay claim to some territory back here. Seems like it’s a bit more crowded today.”

Indeed, there were several new students who had joined them in the back row, stretching and looking around the room curiously. One young man’s eyes tracked over Graves and onto Credence, giving him an unmistakably appraising look with a slight edge of competitiveness, and Credence’s eyes widened. He wondered what the man saw when he looked at him. An athletic rival? Or a romantic one? He was no longer a nervous beginner in the class, and he hoped that he looked like he belonged there now, in this studio and next to Graves.

Calmly, Credence sat down to begin warming up, perhaps a little closer to Graves than necessary, stretching one leg out in front of him and bending toward it. “Thanks for saving me a spot,” he said softly. “Looks like it was the right move.”

Graves’ eyes crinkled mischievously. “Of course," he murmured jokingly. "Didn’t want anyone moving in on my turf.” He sounded like he was talking about more than just their section of the floor, and Credence blushed slightly and bit his lip over a grin. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Graves had put himself between Credence and the newcomers.

“Your turf, huh?” he said, teasing.

“Well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say _your_ turf, which I humbly beg permission to join you on,” Graves replied, appearing to be somewhat distracted by the long line of Credence’s legs. “It was your excellent idea to stick to the back row, after all,” he added playfully. “And it seems I have become attached to the territory. Sera likes to say I was a dog in a past life. A really grumpy, territorial, selfish dog who hates sharing and refuses to change his bad habits. So. You may be stuck with me back here.”

Credence snorted helplessly, erupting into quiet giggles. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.” He shook his head in fond exasperation. “You two are ridiculous, you know. It’s kind of impressive how you manage to craft such creative insults. She’s really going to flip when she hears you’ve managed to stick with yoga, isn’t she? That’s a huge change in habits.”

The man looked delighted at the prospect. “Yes, she definitely will.”

Credence grinned at him joyfully from where he was now tucking his legs into the butterfly stretch, able to get his hips to spread open a bit wider this time than he had last week as he folded his upper body forward. Graves was watching the way he arched his back and rotated his pelvis into the stretch with barely concealed hunger, and Credence resisted the urge to preen.

“Will you tell me what happens when she finds out? I’ll want as much detail as possible,” he said eagerly.

The man sent him a soft smile. “Oh, I’ll make sure and give you a full and in-depth account.” He was currently stretching his shoulders, one arm across his chest, and Credence caught himself absently staring at the bulge of his deltoids in the grey sleeveless shirt he was wearing. Graves rolled his neck and stretched his arms behind his back, pulling the fabric taught over his hard chest, and Credence swallowed hard.

“Sounds great,” he croaked, and Graves gave him a slow, interested look, likely noticing the way Credence’s face flamed and his eyes widened as he watched the man roll his shoulders and shake out his arms. He really liked Graves’ arms.

“Been working on loosening up my shoulders ever since Newt mentioned it,” he explained in a low, velvety murmur. “I think he was right about all that typing making me tighten up. He really knows his stuff.”

Speaking of Newt, Credence realized with a sudden shock that he hadn’t even looked over at him yet, a definite first. Normally he couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. Unable to stop himself, his gaze swiveled to the front of the room where Newt was doing his usual incredible stretching routine. Currently he was sitting with both legs in front of him, his body folded in half and his nose brushing his knees. Newt slowly straightened up, face slightly flushed, and Credence felt the familiar sharp pinch of longing at the beautiful sight of him, his peaceful green eyes and the serene smile on his face. Watching Newt do yoga was like watching an artist at work; his love for his craft was evidenced in every single move he made, and there was something so irresistible about someone who had found a purpose for themselves that made them happy and whole. 

“Oh, uh huh,” Credence replied distractedly, “He’s… an expert. He’s incredible.”

Newt was now spreading his legs out to the sides, pressing his torso down in between them in a familiar impossible-looking hip opener, and Credence felt his blush flame again at the momentary sight of the soft bulge of his groin under the taut sky-blue fabric of the pants he was wearing, highlighted in the vee of his legs in the brief moment before it was blocked from view by his arms. It was completely innocent, simply a part of the stretch, but the wide spread of his thighs and the way it pulled the fabric tight over his crotch was making Credence feel like he was melting with the desire to bury his face there.

Shit. Thoughts like that were far better saved for the privacy of home, when he wasn’t surrounded by people. He needed to pull himself together, no matter how devastatingly sexy Newt was. The man was here to teach, not to be objectified. Credence wrenched his wide-eyed gaze away from their instructor and turned back to Graves, still blushing hotly, only to find that the man was watching him carefully. Credence immediately felt a tangle of worry knot itself in his stomach. Could he tell how much Credence wanted Newt? Was he angry? Betrayed?

But the man’s eyes were soft and oh so gentle. “He is incredible. You’re certainly right about that.” He watched Credence for a moment longer, something unreadable in his expression, and then Newt’s ipod started its soothing music and both of them turned their attention to the front of the class once more for the start of the lesson.

As they began, Credence found himself sinking into the deep breaths during the poses, grateful for the focus that it gave him, allowing him to work through the snarl of thoughts in his head more clearly. Alright, he told himself, breathe. What is the problem and what are you going to do about it? 

His first worry was what Graves would think of him if he knew just how desperately attracted Credence was to Newt. Credence took a deep breath and let it out. Well, he thought, Graves would probably understand, to a point, having indicated plainly that he found Newt attractive as well. But what about the fact that they were now starting something together, something that came with potential expectations of fidelity? They hadn’t talked at all about being exclusive yet, and their relationship was still new and undefined, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he ought not to look at anyone else when he had someone as wonderful as Graves uncomplainingly waiting to be let in. Credence was pretty sure Graves would let him take all the time he needed to work out whether he wanted to cross over into real dating, but didn’t he owe him some loyalty in exchange for his patience? He knew Graves was slightly territorial, from their joking exchange earlier, and he never wanted to make the man feel that Credence’s interest was wandering away from him. It wasn’t, after all. His desire for Graves was stronger than ever. It was just paralleled by another equally strong attraction to someone else. That was the problem.

They moved into downward dog, and Credence’s head hung down toward the floor, gravity shifting the order of his thoughts as well. From underneath his worries, their conversation from this afternoon slid back out to the front of his mind - Graves insisting that Credence never needed to feel like he owed him anything. Not kisses, or dates, or probably loyalty either. Not yet, not unless they agreed to be a couple and had a discussion about it. No. His desire was his own. His fantasies were his own.

The thought reassured him, though Queenie’s words from before still echoed in his head. You’re gonna have to go forward carefully, she’d said. Be honest, be patient, and make sure you keep everyone’s feelings in mind.

Well, easier said than done. But he would try his best not to let anybody be hurt by his actions. He would make sure not to promise anything to anyone that he wasn’t able to give, and he hoped that the test of time would help him to figure out the rest.

Yoga was amazing. By the end of the class, Credence was at peace with his thoughts, and even though he was still a bit worried about how things would shake out, he had at least gained some clarity. Who knew that some stretching and deep breathing was just the thing to keep his anxieties at bay and let him think about them more logically? 

He sent Graves a shy smile as they pulled on their shoes and rolled up their mats. The man was quiet, waiting for Credence to gather his things before the two of them headed over toward the door, an enigmatic look in his eyes.

Wanting to lighten the mood, Credence bumped their shoulders together and asked, “Do you think this week we might try for five miles?”

Graves’ expression softened into something like relief. “I will leave that up to you. Do you think I’m ready?” he asked playfully.

“Oh, I think so,” Credence replied happily, “We can try four again tomorrow and see how it feels first, though. We have to build up to it carefully.”

Graves’ eyes sparkled. “Sounds great. I will follow your expertise.”

They were approaching Newt now, who was bidding goodbye to three new students, two women and the young man from the back row, all three of them looking a bit in awe of him and more than a little smitten. “Thank you for coming,” he was saying, his lovely melodic voice sincere as he smiled shyly at the three of him. “I’m so glad to hear you had a nice time.”

Good grief. Credence was coming to realize that Newt really had no idea how alluring he was without even trying. It was apparent in how shy and awkward he remained in contexts outside of teaching that he really didn’t go out of his way to draw attention, nor did he seem to understand how incredibly beautiful he was. It made jealousy and fondness burn in equal measure through Credence’s chest, watching the way he looked bashfully at the students through the tousled mop of his hair, his green eyes wide and guileless and so, so pretty. How could anybody not be half in love with him?

Newt seemed glad to see Graves and Credence’s familiar faces approaching, bidding a polite goodnight to the new students with one last charming smile. They took his cue and headed out, the two women trailing out the door but the young man’s lingering gaze flicking between Credence, Newt and Graves with interest before he slipped after them. Credence raised his eyebrows in surprise. Had he been checking out all three of them?

“How did you feel about today’s lesson?” Newt asked eagerly, quickly drawing Credence’s focus back. Newt was radiant up close, as always. His pale eyelashes were very long, and Credence rapidly remembered what they had looked like coated in mascara, dark and thick.

“It was great!” Credence said hurriedly. “It’s getting easier. I don’t feel as tired this time.”

“Ah!” Newt’s face brightened. “Excellent. Completely normal. Just like when you first started cross country, I’d imagine. You start off feeling tired after you exercise, and eventually you build up stamina and it starts to not be so draining. Of course, then you can push on to a harder class if you like. But I am selfish enough to hope you will stay,” he said, smiling sweetly. “Both of you.” He nodded to Graves.

“Oh, I don’t think we’re going anywhere,” the man replied, his voice low and silky, glancing at Credence, whose eyes were locked on Newt.

“No other teacher would compare to you,” Credence admitted helplessly, Newt flushing in pleasure at their answer. He looked delightfully flustered, his pink lips slightly open and his eyes wide as he looked between the two of them, a demure smile spreading across his face.

“Oh,” he breathed, “I… Well, I’m... That’s… Thank you.” 

Tori had been rolling up her mat behind them and now she wandered over to stand next to Newt and clap a hand on his shoulder, chirping “Great lesson as always!” She grinned brightly when she saw Credence. “Credence, my darling! I’ve almost got those photos edited. I’ll send a couple of the best ones to you tomorrow so you can have a look.” He nodded happily in the face of her enthusiasm, and she smiled widely. 

And then, surprisingly, she purred, “Well, hello, Percival.” And she was smirking, and Newt looked as lost and confused as Credence felt, completely thrown for a loop.

“Astoria,” Graves acknowledged dryly, his brow furrowed, the two eyeing each other with something like friendly enmity.

Newt stared at him in surprise. “I hadn’t realized you two knew each other.” 

Graves had a put-upon expression on his face that reminded Credence slightly of the way he talked about his boss. Fond exasperation. “Ah, yes, she’s an old family friend,” he said easily. “But I was not aware you knew Credence,” he added, his eyes narrowed and his warm hand coming to rest on Credence’s back.

She grinned at him brightly, with a hint of sharpness. “Oh yes, his cousin and I share a studio,” she said somewhat slyly. “Credence was kind enough to model for me for my latest photo series.” Tori reached up and tugged lightly on the end of one of Credence’s braids. “He was breathtaking, no surprise.”

“I’m sure,” Graves said lightly, and something strange seemed to pass between them. Credence got the feeling that Tori was trying to needle him, and it was maybe half working.

“I see you lost that bet,” she was saying smugly, her hands now on her hips, nails painted a glossy dark pink this week. “But you are looking far less cranky about it than I would’ve expected.” Credence was trying to piece together what was going on, but he was still too thrown by the sudden fact that these two knew each other. Was there history between them? Romantic history? Newt caught his eye, looking baffled, and Credence shrugged minutely at him.

“How do you know I lost?” Graves was saying smoothly, a hint of mischief in his voice. “I might have just decided to try yoga on my own. And now that I know I like it, Sera can stop breathing down my neck about it. You can tell her I’m very at peace now.” 

Tori laughed her tinkling laugh, throwing her head back elegantly, and smacked Graves on the chest lightly. “You liar. She told me she was sure you would never try this class on your own. Too much of an insufferable hard-ass to admit he needed time to unwind,” she joked. Graves made an exaggerated oof sound, as if her hit had actually injured him, and adopted an expression of extreme hurt.

“What? Me? Insufferable? Come on, she didn’t really say that.” His eyes were sparkling even as he scowled, and he looked almost painfully handsome as he shifted the strap of his bag across his chest.

“No, no,” she laughed, “don’t turn that glower on me. You know how irritable you can get sometimes when you work yourself too hard. She just wanted you to get some perspective, find some outlets for your tension.”

Graves scoffed. “She was hoping I would fall on my face, you mean. And you would report it back to her.”

“No!” she giggled, “Stop being such a dick. She cares about you, that’s all.”

Graves sighed. “I know. But you can’t really be telling me that not even one little part of her was hoping I would fall over?”

Tori rolled her eyes, apparently giving up. “Why don’t you ask her yourself. She’s in the kickboxing class downstairs, and they’ll be out in a minute.”

“What?” Credence realized belatedly that he and Graves had spoken at the same time. Graves’ boss was in Queenie and Tina’s class? Tori was looking at them in surprise.

“Did she not tell you? Why else did you think she recommended this gym? Just because of me?”

“Well, yeah, and it’s right by the office,” said Graves slowly, “although now that I think about it, it’s easy to picture Sera kickboxing. She probably imagines she’s punching the lights out of some of our more annoying stockholders. Is that how she keeps her temper in check when the board meetings go on for too long?”

“I suspect so,” laughed Tori. “Newt, will you come downstairs with us? I’d love it if you met my sister.”

They were already out the door and heading toward the stairs by the time that sunk in to Credence’s head. “Sister? The sister you live with?”

She looked over her shoulder at him and grinned. “Yep! Oh, that’s right, and you are all going to be at our place for Halloween, right?” Credence took a second to process this, his heart pounding at the new information. Graves would be at the party too? The man was giving him a dumbfounded look, bright with surprised happiness, and Credence couldn’t help but smile softly at him. Who would’ve thought that they’d been talking about the same party all along, and that his boss would turn out to be Tori’s sister. Speaking of…

“Oh, there she is! They must have gotten out early.” And it all fell into place. At the bottom of the stairs was a beautiful woman with golden brown skin wearing form-fitting athletic gear, her silky white-blonde hair tied up with a scarf and a professional-looking garment bag slung over her shoulder. She was leaning casually against the railing and smiling up at them, and at the other end of the room Tina was waiting, half-hidden behind the ellipticals and looking rather pink in the face while Queenie rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Oh my _God_. This was ridiculous. How had they missed the fact that everyone was so inter-connected?

Queenie’s face softened with surprise when she saw the group of them coming down the stairs, her keen eyes taking in Newt and Graves, warming in fondness when she saw Credence, and then widening when she saw who Tori was leading them toward. She really hadn’t known they were related, then.

“My sister, Seraphina,” Tori was saying, hopping down off the last step to join her sister off to the side of the stairs. The rest of them followed her, forming a tight cluster so that they weren’t blocking the steps, Credence ending up pressed against Graves’ side. “Sera, this is Newt, who I keep telling you about,” Tori said happily, pulling Newt forward with an arm looped through his.

Seraphina extended a graceful hand to shake Newt’s pale one, a polite smile on her face. She seemed completely at ease, confident in a way that successful businesspeople often were, with the straightforwardness of someone who talked to strangers and clients every day and had no worries about their own ability to handle it. Credence already admired her for it, and wished he could figure out how she was able to strike exactly the right balance between warm and professional. Behind her and across the room, Queenie seemed to be subtly trying to pry Tina out of her hiding spot, with no luck.

“It’s nice to meet you, Newt. I understand you have been busy helping with the photo series and keeping my sister from pulling her hamstring again. I want to thank you for teaching her some patience.” Seraphina’s smile turned a bit wry. “She never used to stretch enough.” She continued right over the indignant noise Tori made, her eyes warm as she flicked her glance at Graves over Newt’s shoulder. “And if you’ve managed to teach Percy anything, I’d like to congratulate you heartily. He’s notoriously bad at taking direction.” There was a hint of a smirk playing around her mouth, but something in her eyes was still soft and affectionate.

Graves made a plaintive noise that was almost a whine. “Sera, I believe I told you that if you ever called me Percy again, I would quit, so you’d better be prepared to face the meeting tomorrow without me.”

She gave him an unimpressed look. “Your resignation is not accepted, Graves, nor will it ever be. You are far too valuable to the company, so do stop being so dramatic. In all seriousness, though, I’m glad you followed up on my suggestion. I think yoga could be very beneficial for you.”

“Actually, I completely agree,” Graves said smoothly, and Credence watched as her face transformed in honest surprise. It seemed he had been correct that she wasn’t expecting him to like it. “I’ve been finding a great deal of peace, and I suspect Newt is helping me correct years of bad posture at my desk. The sense of meditative calm afterward is quite wonderful as well. It makes me feel…” He inhaled slowly, before sighing the breath out again. “Whole.”

Newt beamed at him while Credence stifled a giggle. He knew exactly what Graves was doing; there was truth to what he was saying, but he was also laying it on a little thick. Seraphina looked like she’d been hit over the head, her professional calm expression now completely flummoxed. “Does it?” she said faintly.

“Oh, yes. I never knew what I was missing out on, before. Newt’s a very patient teacher, and he makes all of it very enjoyable. In fact, I’ve even been talking to Credence about branching out into meditation classes.” Credence somehow managed not to snort at that. When Graves looked over, Credence had to bite his lip not to break out into an enormous grin, giggles still threatening to bubble up out of his chest. Graves’ eyes were sparkling with mirth as he rubbed a casual hand up Credence’s back, likely able to feel the vibrations of his stifled amusement. Somehow, the man kept a straight face as he added, “I’m very tranquil now, aren’t I?”

Trying very hard to hide the giddiness in his voice, Credence accomplished the difficult task of saying, completely seriously, “Quite serene, actually.” The funny thing was, it was true. Credence had seen a whole different side of Graves than perhaps Seraphina ever had. The thought sobered him, and the rest of his answer was perfectly honest. “It’s incredible, the things you realize about yourself with some clarity and deep breathing,” he said softly. Graves was smiling at him now, warm and unreserved, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he watched Credence with affection.

“I think you’ve got it all summed up there. You’re very wise,” Graves murmured. “It’s lucky you were there that first class or I might have left without ever realizing what a mistake I was making.” Credence smiled shyly back at him, blushing as he suddenly found himself the center of the group’s undivided attention. 

Graves’ hand was still on his back, dragging his knuckles up and down his spine, and Seraphina was watching the two of them with an odd expression on her face, staring in amazement at Graves’ smiling profile. Tori had her arm linked with Newt’s, and both of them were eyeing Credence with some surprise, Tori appraising, one delicate brow raised, and Newt looking a bit wistful. Or was that his imagination?

“Very wise indeed, if you managed to convince Percy to stay,” Seraphina said, prompting a growl of annoyance from Graves. “Most of the time I can’t even manage to convince him to take his lunch breaks. He’s like an irritable old mule.” 

“Oh, very nice. And last week she called me a dog. Do you see what I have to put up with?” he said to Credence, a playful pout in his voice. “Didn’t I tell you she lives to humiliate me? It’s awful, really. Can I come work with you at the bakery?”

Credence, still blushing, was trying not to giggle. “Ignore him,” Seraphina put in, “he also likes to pretend he’s a martyr.” Graves rand a hand over his face and groaned. “So you work at the bakery with those excellent pastries, huh?” Seraphina continued, her gaze intently interested as she examined Credence. “Those spicy ones were wonderful, I’m definitely going to have to come get more. But Graves, you and customer service would definitely not mix,” she said frankly. “You’re good at your job at MACUSA. I’m only bothering you because I wish you’d take a few more breaks. I want you to take care of yourself.”

“I know, I know,” he said, more soberly. “Hence why I’m here now. And Credence made sure I had lunch today. Aren’t you glad about that?” he huffed.

“Yes,” she said smoothly, some surprise back in her voice. “I am, actually.” Her keen eyes flicked over the two of them once more. “Well, I am happy to know that you’re in good hands. And Credence, it’s very nice to meet you,” she said with a sharp smile, holding out her hand. “You seem like a bright, multitalented young man who could be doing much more interesting things with your day than putting up with him, but thank you so much for doing so.” Credence could hear Graves making quiet noises of exasperation next to him as he reached out and shook her hand.

“Sera,” Graves groaned when she looked Credence over speculatively. 

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” she said, puzzled, and Credence felt a small cold shock run through him. Had she seen him at a sermon or a rally or something? Before? But that was years ago, hopefully that wasn’t it.

“No, no, stop trying to win him over to your side,” Graves was saying playfully, “I found him first. Get your own cute baker. Ha! I won’t ever tell you which bakery he works at if you keep trying to turn him against me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do? Kidnap him to bake for me? Although, those pastries were amazing… Real works of art.” Her expression cleared. “Oh! That’s right.” She snapped her fingers. “You look familiar because I’ve been catching glimpses of you on Tori’s computer for the last twenty four hours.” Her gaze swept over to Newt. “Ah, yes. And you as well. The two of you look magnificent together, by the way. That blue silk is gorgeous.” 

“Oh,” Newt said, blushing charmingly as Tori beamed next to him. “Thank you very much, ma’am.”

She sent him a small wry grin. “No need for formalities. Anyone who Tori photographs is practically family. The creative process forges a bond, you know. Call me Sera. You too, Credence.”

“Blue silk, huh? Which one of you is wearing that?” Graves said, sounding a little put out. Credence supposed it was because he hadn’t mentioned Newt being part of the photo shoot before.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Tori said smugly at the same time as Credence murmured, “Newt,” his voice sounding a little raw. His mind immediately conjured up a picture of the man’s long elegant body in that slim blue dress. Newt sent him a bashful smile from where he was standing next to Tori, his eyes so very green and pretty.

Graves’ gaze was flicking between Credence and Newt, his hand still warm and feather-light on Credence’s back but his brow slightly furrowed. “I see,” he said carefully, and Credence could feel himself blushing now, hotly, feeling pinned by the gentle weight of Graves’ stare and the faint uncertainty in his eyes. 

Credence swallowed, not wanting Graves to feel left out or unhappy. “The photo series is an incredible project,” he explained. “Exploring androgyny and the expression of nonbinary gender identity through fashion.” He nodded toward Tori. “It will be showing at a gallery, right?”

“Yep!” she crowed. “The Blind Pig. It’s a weird name, but it’s a very highly regarded exhibition space. Opening reception in November. I’ve got their main room all to myself for the four month duration of the show, and I’m really hoping some of the pieces will sell. I mean, if the models give their permission of course. We can go over that later, Credence, give you some time to think about it.”

“Okay,” Credence managed, his heart fluttering. He hadn’t actually considered the fact that people would be staring at his picture for months, or that someone might want to buy it and take it home, Credence’s face hanging on some stranger’s wall.

Graves rubbed a hand up Credence’s back, almost as if he could feel the nerves racing in him, and Credence relaxed minutely into his side. “Sounds very exciting. A fascinating theme to explore. I’d love to come to the opening,” the man said, his voice low and soothing, and Credence felt weak with relief when he looked up to find him smiling, his dark eyes warm again.

“Well, you may get a preview on Halloween, Graves, if Tori is done editing some of the photos,” Sera declared. “I hope that will be enough incentive to lure you to the party without complaint.” Over her shoulder, he could see Queenie finally approaching them, a mostly composed Tina being towed along beside her.

“I told you I would be there, didn’t I?” Graves said smoothly, “And now you can be sure I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Credence’s cousins were getting closer now, and the rest of the group was turning, Tori’s face lighting up and Newt smiling in polite recognition while Graves looked over at the two of them curiously. Only Sera hadn’t noticed them yet, but that was clearly about to change. He just hoped Tina was alright with things finally coming to a head. She seemed calm, at least, nervous but determined.

“Thank you so much for having us all over on Halloween," Credence said, thinking quickly. "My cousins and I are looking forward to it.” He slid away from the warmth of Graves’ body to pull Tina over, neatly guided into place by a firm push from Queenie. He scooped an arm around her shoulders, giving Sera a bright grin. “Actually, as it happens, I believe it is long past time you were introduced. This is my cousin Tina. I’m not sure if you’ve met properly.” 

Sera looked completely surprised and a little bit flustered at Tina’s sudden appearance right in front of her, and Credence was gratified to see a faint blush crawling up her cheeks. They shook hands, both a little wide eyed, Tina muttering a “Pleased to meet you, um… officially,” while Credence gave her shoulders a subtle encouraging squeeze before letting go.

Sera was nodding, her eyes locked on Tina’s face. “You… it’s good to meet you too. Credence is completely right, it’s long past time I actually introduced myself. Thank you for being a friendly face at the start of each class, I… sometimes, that’s… When I’ve had a nightmarish day, as sometimes happens, small gestures like that make quite a lot of difference.” She cleared her throat. “I am very much looking forward to having you all over on Halloween. My sister is excited to show everyone the progress she is making on her photo exhibition, and it would be wonderful to get to know you and your family better.”

“Thank you,” Tina said, smiling softly, “I look forward to it.” Queenie was waiting at her elbow, beaming, and Tina quickly added. “Oh! This is my sister Queenie.”

“Pleased to meet you!” Queenie chirped. “I could kick myself for not realizing sooner that the two of you were related. It’s so obvious now that you’re standing next to Tori. Both of you are so stunning,” she said, dimple flashing in her cheek. Tina elbowed her subtly in the ribs but Sera looked surprised and flattered.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you. And it’s wonderful to put a face to the talented fashion designer Tori’s been telling me about. She’s very proud of you for landing that theater job, and I’d love to hear more details about it at some point, it sounds very exciting.” She smiled politely and Credence imagined he could hear Tina’s heart sinking. Could Sera be interested in Queenie? He was pretty sure that would end poorly for everyone involved. But then the woman looked back over at Tina. “And I must ask you more about your work as well. And what you do to achieve such excellent form in kickboxing. You are a mystery I look forward to unraveling.”

As Graves would say, _holy shit_. The look Sera was giving his cousin was most certainly flirtatious, even Credence could recognize that. Tina was practically glowing with delight. “Oh, I… I’m not all that mysterious, but I’d be happy to hear more about you too,” she managed to say bashfully. “I’ve always been curious where you are coming from when you arrive in your nice suit.”

Sera beamed at her in surprise. “You noticed my suit?” she asked softly, her eyes warm. “Well, usually I’m coming from the office; not that exciting, I assure you. It’s a rewarding job, but it has its fair share of frustrations and coming to the gym is an incredible relief after a long day. A bit of exercise helps burn off the stress and clear one’s mind, which is why I have been strongly encouraging my high-level staff to take up the practice.” She gave Graves a significant look.

“Yes, I concede your point, Sera,” the man said grudgingly. “I am glad I joined the yoga class.”

“Oh,” Queenie gasped. “You two work together? It really is a small world, isn’t it?” She laughed delightedly and tilted her head, assessing him. “Because you must be Graves, am I right?”

It was a bit surreal to watch the two of them shake hands, Graves looking a bit surprised. “How did you know?” he laughed, “Yes, that’s me. Pleased to meet you.”

“You as well,” she replied, giving him an enigmatic smile as Tina reached around her to shake his hand too. “I recognized you from Credence’s description, of course,” Queenie trilled, and Credence resisted the urge to cover his face with his hands, his eyes growing wide with panic. Please, please, let her not recite any of the things he said in the car about how handsome he was. But luckily, she stopped there.

Graves shot a glance at Credence, looking softly pleased. “Is that so?” Credence could feel himself blushing again, giving him a shy smile. Really, the amount of time he’d spent blushing recently was getting ridiculous.

“Oh, yes,” Tina said smoothly, “Credence tells us everything. We’re very close.” There was something steely in her tone, cautious and protective, and Credence tried not to groan. Graves paled slightly and nodded.

“Of course. He speaks very affectionately about the two of you,” he replied politely. “I only wish my family was as close-knit as you three. Having support like that is important. So, I… well, it is an honor to meet you.” His expression was quite serious, and Tina seemed to relax minutely at his good manners. Queenie, however, still looked assessing.

“Well, thank you for saying so,” she said smoothly. “I assume we can look forward to getting to know you better in the near future. Will you be at the Halloween party as well?” she asked somewhat slyly.

“I will, yes. Sera and Tori always do throw an excellent party,” he replied carefully, while Queenie gave him her customary knowing look, as if she could read his innermost thoughts. She had a knack for being intimidating when she wanted to be. “As much as I like to annoy them each year by complaining about being dragged to the festivities, I’m really quite looking forward to it this time,” Graves continued. Queenie’s sharp eyes traveled over the arm he still had wrapped loosely around Credence. “And of course the costumes are not to be missed,” he said with a nod to her. “Credence texted me a photo of the design you created for him to wear, it’s really striking.”

Queenie’s gaze snapped over to Credence in surprise. “Oh, he did?” The corners of her mouth rose and her eyes twinkled. “Well, thank you. Glad you liked it.” He knew what she was thinking now; Credence rarely texted anybody, and normally he would’ve been very shy about sharing a picture of himself, but something about Graves made him feel at ease, made him want to tell him everything. He was comfortable with him, and he liked him enough to open up. Queenie beamed triumphantly, almost as if the man had passed some unspoken test. “And you’ll get to see it in person soon enough.” 

“Sera, did you hear that? We throw an excellent party,” Tori said in tones of exaggerated wonderment. “If Graves says so, it must be true, considering he’s allergic to fun.”

“Tori,” Sera said in amusement. “Go easy on him. Believe it or not, he seems to be turning over a new leaf into being marginally less of a stick in the mud. I, for one, am excited to see where this goes.” Her eyes flicked over to Credence, a speculative expression on her face, and he tried not to fidget under her stare.

“Thanks, Sera,” Graves said sarcastically, “Your confidence is so inspiring.”

“Erm,” Newt piped up, and Credence realized he had been waiting patiently this entire time, quiet at Tori’s side. He really did become a bit introverted in crowds. “I’m so sorry to run off like this, but I’m afraid I must get going now or I may miss the last 62 bus. Terribly sorry. It was wonderful to see you all, and I’m so glad I got to meet you, Sera.”

“You as well,” she replied smoothly. “And you are right, it is getting a bit late.”

“Actually, yes,” Tina said. “We really should get home too, got dinner waiting on the stove. But we could easily give you a ride, Newt, the 62 goes right up our way. No need for you to take the bus in the dark.”

“Oh! I, er… That would be lovely, if it really isn’t any trouble,” Newt mumbled, and Tina quickly nodded. “I normally bike, but I’ve had a problem with my brakes lately. Got to go in for a tune-up.”

“No trouble at all, we’ve got room. Just let me know where to drop you off.”

As they all stirred and started for the door, Credence couldn’t quite believe how desperately he was now looking forward to next Saturday and the Halloween party. There was an eager, gnawing excitement taking up an unfamiliar space in his stomach, so happy it was almost a bit savage. He wasn’t used to this at all, unaccustomed to having something incredible and new to anticipate doing, something that both thrilled and intrigued him, something out of the ordinary. 

Predictability and routine had been his staunchest lifelong allies, helping him avoid Ma’s temper and then aiding him in getting back on his feet after his life had all fallen apart. This, though, this fervor with which he was keenly awaiting the unknown of the party, felt wonderful. Perhaps he was finally ready to make regular trips out of his comfort zone, into the messy and luscious tangle of new experiences that awaited him on the other side.

They waved goodbye to Sera and Tori at the door as they headed off toward their car, Newt, Tina and Queenie going in the opposite direction toward Tina’s old Honda. Credence hesitated on the chilly sidewalk, thrumming with daring, before planting a soft kiss on Graves’ cheek. He wasn’t thinking about whether anybody was looking, or what rules or expectations he ought to be following, just reacting to the spreading warmth in his chest and the joy of the moment. He pulled back and gave the man a shy smile, hoping the gesture had been welcome.

Graves’ eyes glowed as he reached out and brushed a thumb lightly over Credence’s jaw, a fond, private grin on his face. “See you tomorrow,” he murmured, and Credence nodded happily.

“See you,” he whispered, then hurried after his cousins toward the car, where Queenie was sliding into the backseat with Newt.

But Newt was their guest! “Oh, Newt, wouldn’t you like to sit in the front?” Credence asked anxiously. “You’ve got long legs, and it would probably be more comfortable…”

“No, no, that’s alright,” Newt said genially, sticking his head out the rear door. “I am very bendy, after all. I’ll be quite comfortable back here. And anyway, you’ve got legs just as long as mine! I gather the front is your usual seat, and I’d hate to displace you.”

Reluctantly, Credence slid into the front seat and turned to look over his shoulder. “Alright, if you’re sure you’re comfortable. I can pull the seat forward a bit,” he couldn’t resist saying.

Newt smiled gently and shook his head. “You are very considerate, Credence, but I have plenty of room.” In the dim light of the parking lot, Newt’s eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheeks, half of his face hidden in the dark and the other half glowing pale from the street lamp outside. He looked like a work of art, ghostly and abstract.

“Alright,” Credence breathed, enraptured, only looking away when Tina started the engine and he had to buckle his seatbelt.

The ride home through the city was disappointingly quick, Credence watching the smears of light flash by on the dashboard while he listened to Queenie ask Newt about yoga and his volunteer job. It turned out that he taught another class in the afternoons right before theirs, and one in the morning on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Then he volunteered at the animal rescue clinic on Thursday and Sunday afternoons, and had massage clients interspersed throughout the week. Queenie wasted no time in offering to give Newt a ride home after every class, which he seemed unsure about until Tina announced that the offer would simply be open any time, and he could choose to take it sometimes and not others. Credence was meanwhile trying to pretend he wasn’t obsessively committing Newt’s schedule to memory and hanging on his every word. This was not especially satisfying, listening to Newt talk behind him without being able to see his face, but he would take every minute he could get.

They dropped Newt off in front of a charming brick apartment building with an old-fashioned iron gate, just a few blocks east of their own place, watching him climb the stairs and let himself in with one last cheery wave over his shoulder. When he was out of sight, Credence let out a gusty sigh, Queenie reaching over his seat to rub his shoulder consolingly.

“He really is special, isn’t he? So sweet and polite, and it’s incredible that he works with animals.” she said softly. “But then Graves seems like a great guy too. I see your predicament, Bambi.”

Credence made a wordless huff of agreement. “Yep. But at least Tina finally met her dream girl,” he said slyly, watching Tina bite her lip over a helpless smile.

“I just can’t believe her identity was staring me in the face this whole time!” Queenie exclaimed from the backseat. “I could’ve introduced you way sooner, maybe you’d already be dating her by now.”

“No,” Tina said softly, “I wouldn’t want to change anything. Tonight was… she was so gracious, so… happy and amazed. I… I think we needed this time, to circle each other. The mystery was building. I wasn’t ready before, and maybe she wasn’t either. Who knows? Maybe what clinched it was Credence’s irresistible aura rubbing off on me,” she mused, “Since you’ve clearly already got Graves wrapped around your little finger.”

Credence shot a surprised look at her while Queenie giggled. “Huh?”

“Bambi, that man is well on his way to becoming smitten with you, if he isn’t there already,” Tina said calmly while she pulled into their parking spot. “Even from halfway across the room, we could see him looking at you with hearts in his eyes.”

“Halfway across the room and hidden behind an elliptical machine, you mean,” Queenie pointed out exasperatedly.

“Yes, yes, I know that hiding wasn’t the most dignified response,” Tina sighed, “but I panicked, okay? This is what I was talking about before, Queens. I can’t always talk to people easily like you can, especially not in front of a crowd. It just doesn’t work that way for me, I hate going anywhere that I’m surrounded by strangers and I like my privacy, whereas you thrive on meeting new people. It’s wonderful that you can do that, Queenie, but I need to approach things differently. She was worth putting myself out there for, and I knew that, but I needed to get my head together first.”

“Okay,” Queenie said softly. “I get it. I mean, I don’t really, but I get that we’re different. I was worried before that you were trying to tell me something else. Maybe you were sick of my teasing and you wanted to distance yourself from me. I just… I panic when I start to think that… that I’m not… that you might want me to move out, or something.”

“Whoa, what?” Tina said sharply as they all piled into the elevator. “Who said anything about moving out? You aren’t going anywhere.”

“I know, I know, it was a ridiculous leap to make. I just… I guess I’m just always thinkin’ how I’m not really that great of a sister or a roommate, you know, I leaned so heavily on your support through art school and now I barely make any money, and I’m just… Well, I just hate the feeling that I’m not contributing enough. Plus, you and Credence are all I’ve got, and maybe I’m a little extra afraid of losing you because of it.”

“Queenie,” breathed Tina, wrapping an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Oh, sweetie. We are a family, and you’ll never need to prove your worth to us. Credence and I already know just how wonderful you are, and there is no possible way you could lose us.”

“Exactly,” Credence whispered. “You never gave up on me, even when I… when I shouted and cried and when I refused to get out of bed. It has nothing to do with money. Family sticks together. Always.”

“You’re right,” murmured Queenie, a bit thickly, “I don’t know why I’m so touchy about this idea that you’re gonna leave me. And here I was complaining earlier about you being sensitive, Teenie. I’m sorry about that, by the way. Credence, I wasn’t thinking when I said that. There’s nothing wrong with it. With either of you.”

Tina squeezed her a bit tighter and the three of them headed down the hall to their apartment door. “I think,” Credence said slowly, as Tina unlocked the door, “that Juliet would say… it was only natural. To be afraid of loss, and maybe to fixate on it a little, to worry about imagined possibilities. If…” He bit his lip. “If, especially, you’ve experienced great loss already, and it’s shaken your sense of security.”

There was thoughtful, melancholy silence in the wake of his pronouncement, Tina reaching over to squeeze his shoulder as they filed into the apartment. When they got into the living room, Queenie suddenly pulled both of them into a tight hug. “You’re probably right, Bambi,” she whispered into his shoulder, clutching Tina’s arm. The three of them stood wrapped around each other for a long moment, Credence remembering the echoes of another similar embrace back when he was eleven and had barely known what love looked like, finally catching a glimpse of it in its purest form in red-rimmed eyes and wet blonde curls in the rain.

When Queenie withdrew from Credence’s chest with a small sniffle, she declared, “Alright, what do you say we eat dinner and then have a good old-fashioned snuggle pile on the couch and watch a movie? I could use something that makes me laugh, what do you think?”

Tina smiled softly. “Sounds great. Credence, you mind if we hang out in your space tonight?”

Credence shook his head. “I don’t mind. You’re never too old for a slumber party,” he said, earning a laugh from both of his cousins, quoting what Queenie always said when she insisted it was time for a night of ice cream and hair braiding and watching cheesy movies. 

The rest of the evening was spent in easy comfort, and he ended up lying on the pull-out couch in a nest of pillows and blankets and lazily half-watching some romantic comedy while Queenie rain her nails over his scalp. He dozed lightly against her lap, lulled by the sound of Tina laughing softly at the characters onscreen and the familiar hum of the dishwasher, soothing and calm.

His last half-awake thoughts were of Newt’s face in the car, beautiful and stark in the shadows, and Graves’ warm dark eyes after Credence had kissed him. Sleep drew over him like a rippling pool, and his dreams swirled with longing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy, this was a fun chapter to write. Among other things, I had a laugh imagining Tina reflexively ducking behind an exercise machine when Sera appeared unexpectedly, kind of like the scene in the movie where she flings herself behind the desk to hide from Abernathy. I love that her character in the film is strong and confident in lots of ways while also shy and awkward and real too, and I wanted to try and stay true to that.
> 
> I hope this installment was enjoyable to read, despite the fact it was mostly characters standing around and talking :)   
> The next chapter will propel us further, and will have much more Newt in it.


	9. Half Moon Pose

Halloween couldn’t come fast enough.

Now that Credence knew that not only would Newt be there, but Graves as well, he couldn’t wait to don his costume once more and see what would happen in the casual setting of the party. Would Newt be wearing his dress again? And what would Graves dress up as? Would he end up figuring out what to do about his feelings for both of them? On top of all that, he would get to watch Tina and Sera circling each other some more, which he hoped would end in happiness for everyone.

Tuesday dragged by all the more slowly in the face of his impatience. His eight-to-four shift at work was fairly calm after the morning rush had cleared, which left nothing much to do except dreamily ice some peppermint yetis in the back while he tried to picture Graves dressed up in various costumes. Mmm, maybe a vampire? 

Credence had a sudden mental image of Graves leaning against the doorway to the front of the shop in his sleeveless gym shirt, smiling at Credence with teeth that were just a little too sharp. ‘Well, don’t you look tasty, sweetheart. The most delicious thing in the shop.’ And then he might prowl over, sniffing the air, coming close to nuzzle into Credence’s neck. ‘Oh, baby, do you even know how tempting you are?’ He imagined Graves’ hands on his hips as the man pressed against his back, licking up the side of his neck in one long stripe. ‘My sweet boy.’

‘Are you going to eat me?’ Credence might ask breathlessly, but Graves would laugh, low and sultry, his exhales warm against the shell of Credence’s ear.

‘In a way,’ he purred. ‘But I promise you’re going to enjoy it very much.’ He would run his hand lightly down Credence’s chest and belly before palming his cock through his pants. ‘I need to consume part of your vital essence, baby. Other vampires prefer blood, but I’ve got a taste for something a little… creamier.’ He licked Credence’s ear, producing a whole-body shiver, his palm now rubbing firmly over Credence’s crotch. Credence could feel his heartbeat pounding in his neck, right under Graves’ soft lips, the man’s stiff cock rubbing against the back of his upper thigh.

‘I want you to come in my mouth,’ the vampire would whisper, ‘And then for dessert, I’m going to eat your sweet little ass.’

Eyes wide and dilated, mouth dry, Credence realized he had stopped icing the yetis entirely and was instead staring vacantly at the empty doorway. The bell rang in the front of the shop and Credence shook himself out of the fantasy, pink in the face, willing away his half-perked erection. He was incredibly glad he had done so when, several moments later, Jacob stuck his head into the back.

“Hey, Credence, I’ve got a customer out here asking for you in particular,” he said with a grin.

What? Credence smoothed down his apron and pulled off his hairnet and gloves, biting his lip. Who would be coming to see him? Everyone he might’ve expected to see was at work currently, except for… except for Newt! Hurriedly, he emerged behind the counter, hoping to see red hair and green eyes but instead faced with a man he had never seen before. He was shorter than Credence, with tidy dark hair and a well-tailored suit, his large dark eyes assessing the pastry case with reserved interest.

“How can I help you, sir?” Credence asked politely, mystified why this customer would want to see him in particular.

“Ah! I appreciate you coming out, Mr. Goldstein,” the man said somewhat stiffly, offering his hand over the counter to shake Credence’s “Michael Abernathy, personal assistant to Seraphina Picquery. I’ve been asked to send you and Mr. Kowalski her warmest regards and to ask if we might put in a special order for twelve dozen pastries for a party she is hosting at her home this Saturday.” He seemed a little uncomfortable, like this task was outside of his usual responsibilities and he didn’t appreciate being turned into an errand boy. But Sera was the boss.

Credence swallowed a giggle. “Thank you very much, Mr. Abernathy. I hope you will thank her for her thoughtfulness. Jacob, is that possible? Twelve dozen on special order?”

Jacob’s eyes were wide, but he was nodding. “I think so, as long as we crank up the pace. We’ve got a couple other orders to fill for Halloween too, but Mila has agreed to stay late on Friday, and I’ve got both Dana and Andrei coming in for an extra shift.” He turned back to Abernathy. “Yes, we can make that happen. Would you mind filling in the delivery and payment details on this form here?”

Credence waited while they took care of the arrangements, standing awkwardly off to the side and wondering if there was anything else he was needed for. As Abernathy finished up his selections for which kinds of pastries Sera wanted (a large portion of them chili chocolate dragons), Credence began to slide toward the door to the back, only to be stopped short when the man called his name again.

“Ahem. Mr. Goldstein, just one more thing.” He held out a thick, glossy envelope. “I believe these images will also be sent to you in an email, but Madam Picquery and her sister Astoria wished you to have hard copies as well.”

Credence’s mouth fell open, and he reverently took the envelope. He could guess what was inside, and suddenly his palms were sweating and his heart was beating so hard he thought he might fumble the pictures onto the floor. He dared not open them yet.

“Thank you,” he managed.

The pictures sat in his bag the rest of his shift, time moving a little bit faster thanks to their new special order. The pastries would get stale if they were baked too far in advance of delivery, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t prep the dough to stay chilled and ready, and plan a careful schedule for what batches needed to be completed on Friday. By the time four o’clock came around, Credence and Jacob had worked up a detailed plan, and Credence hurried out to catch his bus home with his bag clutched against his chest, dashing through the rain to the overhang of the bus shelter.

He was too nervous to open the envelope when he got to the apartment, instead dithering for an unnecessarily long time over which of his running shorts to wear until Tina got home and he was forced to stop procrastinating and get dressed. His run with Graves that night was easy and comfortable, four miles leaving the man a bit winded but in much better spirits than last week. 

“No side ache this time,” he announced triumphantly, “And I think I almost managed to keep up with your pace, you speedster.” Credence had insisted last week that Graves not try to match his stride, since that would only result in burning himself out too quickly, but the man seemed fixated on working up to a point where he could do steady consecutive eight minute miles just like Credence. 

“I want to be able to keep up with you when the weather gets better and we go running outside,” he explained now, his eyes endearingly determined. Warmth erupted in Credence’s stomach at the mental image of the two of them out jogging, further thrilled by the fact that Graves had given this some thought, and that he was already picturing their future. Graves also clearly hated to be anything less than excellent at anything he tried, and was working hard to prove to himself that he could do this. It was rather sweet, and also kind of hot.

“Well,” Credence murmured. “In that case, we’ll work you up to my pace. But we have plenty of time. It is only the end of October, after all. You’ll be faster than me pretty soon.” Graves’ eyes had softened at that, his smile fond and intimate.

“No, I don’t want to go any faster than your pace,” he breathed. They were standing very close to each other while they stretched their quads, Graves leaning against the wall next to him, his lovely eyes glowing golden amber. “What would be the point of that, when the best part of all of this is just being next to you?”

And then Credence had been unable to resist breaking out into a delighted smile that lasted throughout the rest of their stretches. When they were finished, he was struck with a sudden fit of irreverent courage and surreptitiously tugged Graves into one of the shower stalls in the locker rooms to kiss the surprised grin off his face. The stall smelled like sweat and deodorant and cleaning solution, and was hardly the most romantic place for a kiss, but with Graves’ arms around him and the thrilling press of his body against Credence’s, it became the most exciting location imaginable. They parted, panting, after several minutes of langorous open-mouthed snogging, and Credence could feel his heart beating double-time in his chest, one of Graves’ big hands tangled in his hair.

“More,” he whispered, running his hands up the broad muscles of Graves’ back while the man cupped his face in his warm, broad palm.

He took Credence’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss, followed by several more down the sensitive line of his throat, making Credence gasp lightly and clutch him tighter.

“You like that, baby?” he asked, pressing the question against Credence’s ear in between kisses while his other hand ran through Credence’s mussed hair. “Is it the kissing or the hair play you like best?”

“Both,” Credence managed to choke out as Graves dragged blunt nails over his scalp and simultaneously licked at his ear. He whimpered softly, his hands clutching the back of Graves’ shirt and his groin feeling like it was slowly filling with molten desire. He could feel an answering hardness against his thigh, hot and firm, and the reality of Graves’ arousal was making him feel dizzy. This was really happening, it wasn’t just all in his head. He really wanted Credence. 

Not that they were really in a position to do anything about it in here. They startled slightly when one of the lockers slammed shut outside, and footsteps meandered into the shower stall next to them, followed by sound of clothes rustling and the whoosh of the water.

Graves rubbed a thumb over Credence’s cheek and kissed him again more chastely before pulling back, and Credence resisted the urge to pout in disappointment. But, in truth, he wasn’t all that comfortable doing anything else here, and he appreciated that Graves had anticipated that.

“Have you given any thought to dinner?” Graves murmured, his hand still stroking Credence’s hair. “If you want to, we could go any evening you like.”

Credence relaxed his grip on Graves’ shirt and rubbed a hand up his back. “I do want to.” He nuzzled their foreheads together, enjoying the feeling of Graves’ body heat against his entire front. The man was like a furnace. “How about Thursday?” Thursday should be safe. It wasn’t Credence’s turn to cook, and he wouldn’t be missing out on a potential ride home with Newt.

“You got it, baby. I’m all yours Thursday after our run. We’ll have to work up an appetite, won’t we? Five miles.”

“Mmm.” Credence hummed delightedly as Graves kissed him again, relaxed and easy. Either the man was an expert at kissing, or Credence’s inexperience was making it seem so, but either way he couldn’t get enough of the way his lips and tongue played against Credence’s mouth, a hot slick pleasure that made him melt.

Dazed, they sprang apart when the guy in the shower next to them started to sing loudly, both of them trying not to laugh out loud. Credence poked his head out of the curtain to ensure the coast was clear before tugging Graves by the hand out into the locker room, letting go with a sigh when they emerged into the main floor of the gym and saw Tina and Queenie waiting for him, fresh out of the pool. Pink in the face, he turned and bid Graves goodnight before hurrying over to his cousins, ignoring Queenie’s wink and Tina’s raised eyebrow. 

In bed that night, he touched himself furtively and imagined what might’ve happened if the locker room had been deserted, if the tiles had been cleaner and the whole space more comfortable and intimate. If Graves had continued to kiss his neck while Credence slid the man’s shirt up his back and pulled it over his head, pressed up against all that hot naked skin, running his palms over that broad chest while Graves looked at him with molten amber eyes.

‘What do you think, baby? You ready for more?’ he would ask softly, his cock hard against Credence’s thigh.

Credence might moan as Graves’ hand crept under his shirt, sliding blunt nails down his spine and teasing the material upward until Credence raised his arms and pulled it off, exposed to the man’s hungry gaze and the soothing caress of his warm hands. They would press together for a kiss, bare skin against bare skin, Credence shivering slightly at the feel of being pressed so close that he could feel Graves’ lungs expanding with every breath, the incredible heat of his groin like a furnace against his hip, the beat of his heart rapid and wild.

And Credence himself was feeling a little wild. Pulled like a magnet to that hot bulge in Graves’ shorts, Credence would kiss his way slowly down Graves’ chest and nuzzle the clothed length of his prick, delighting in the feel of the man’s hands tangling in his hair as he looked up at him adoringly.

‘Holy shit, Credence,’ Graves breathed as Credence pressed his lips against the head of his cock through the fabric, coaxing a small wet spot to appear as he lavished it with lingering kisses. He would curl his fingers in the waistband of the man’s shorts then, pulling them down teasingly and licking at his lower abdomen and the hollow of his hip, until the elastic finally slid far enough to release his thick cock, its sticky head springing up to nudge Credence’s cheek. He would look up at Graves again, lock eyes with him as he stared ravenously down at Credence, carefully cupping the back of his head in one large hand. ‘You sure?’ he would ask, because he was considerate like that.

But Credence was beyond sure. In answer, he would reach up and cup the man’s balls in one hand while he gently grasped the shaft of his erection in the other, nuzzling his cheek against the hot prick in a nod. ‘Holy fuck.’ Graves would be breathing hard, incredibly turned on as Credence turned his head and kissed his way up the shaft, all hot moist breath and dragging tongue, tasting the musk of his skin and the salt of clean sweat from the run. ‘Oh, Credence, baby, that’s… mmm.’

Graves was having trouble getting words out now, as Credence carefully licked over the head and back down the shaft, getting all of it as wet as he could before gently suckling the crown into his mouth. Graves made an indistinct noise of deep pleasure, his grip tightening on Credence’s hair as he experimentally slid his lips down a little further, taking the velvety weight of the man’s penis in deeper and testing to see how comfortable it was. He hollowed his cheeks when the tip hit the back of his throat, pulling back off slowly and flicking his tongue gently against the underside as it dragged past over his lips. 

‘Fuck!’ Graves looked completely undone, his eyes wide and his mouth pink and panting. ‘God, look at you. Your perfect mouth.’

Credence grinned at him as he let the man’s prick slip from his mouth, pressing a wet kiss under the head and then jacking it firmly with his saliva-slick hand. ‘You like that?’ he murmured, licking up the vein on the underside in between pulls of his hand. ‘You taste good. Feel good in my mouth.’

He could imagine the muscles in Graves’ abdomen tensing and his hips stuttering slightly at that pronouncement. ‘Baby, that’s so hot. You’re so incredible, sucking me off, willing to use those pretty lips on my cock. Feels so good.’

‘Yeah?’ Credence would say shyly, gently nuzzling down to kiss his balls, the coarse bristle of hair tickling his chin.

‘Oh my God,’ Graves would say, ‘Credence, I’m… Fuck.’

‘You’re close already?’ Credence asked, delighted, licking back up to take the man’s penis into his mouth.

‘Fuck, yes. That’s it. Baby, oh God… You don’t… Oh!... You don’t know how fucking hot it is to see you looking up at me with that hungry expression on your face,’ he gasped, ‘Mmm… fuck… I thought I was gonna come before you even got my shorts off, kissing my cock with those perfect pink lips.’

Credence would do his best to suck firmly up and down, hollowing his cheeks and jerking the rest of the shaft in the same rhythm, feeling the man’s thick member pulse and throb in his hand. He looked up at Graves under his eyelashes once more, and found him staring rapturously down, his face slack with pleasure.

‘That’s so good, baby… Oh, fuck yes,’ he managed to get out, before his words devolved into moans interspersed with Credence’s name, his hips starting to rock a little against his tight self-control, unable to completely keep from thrusting into Credence’s mouth so close to his climax. The pleasure was visibly building in his face, brow furrowing as he threw back his head and groaned, chest heaving and fingers clenching over Credence’s scalp. Graves’ moan reached a new pitch of satisfaction as his pelvis jerked and his abs contracted, and a spurt of salty bitterness oozed thick over Credence’s tongue, making him purr with contentment as he curiously swallowed around the thick load. He continued to suck gently for another few seconds until Graves pet a hand affectionately through his hair and tugged him off.

‘My God, baby, that was incredible,’ he panted, ‘Get up here, I don’t want your knees to get sore.’ Then Credence would be pulled up for a deep kiss, Graves’ hot tongue searching his mouth for the rich taste of his own release while Credence’s cock twitched against the man’s thigh. ‘Oh, sweetheart,’ that lovely low voice would breathe against his lips as his broad palm ran down Credence’s torso to cup him through his gym shorts, ‘Will you let me return the favor?’

As if there was any question. Credence would nod eagerly and bite his lip in pleasurable anticipation as Graves pressed him against the tiled wall and knelt, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his navel. Credence was already so on edge from the deep, clenching thrill of bringing Graves off with his mouth that even that small touch made him whimper, his hands resting uncertainly on Graves’ shoulders.

‘Sensitive, baby?’ the man murmured, pressing another kiss to his slightly trembling belly. ‘Mmm, sweetheart, you really did enjoy sucking me off, didn’t you? That’s so hot. Already so close,’ he purred, pleased. His large hands were holding Credence’s hips steady as he licked down the trail of dark hair leading from his navel into the aching tent of his shorts, before curling his fingers into the waistband and pulling it down to mid-thigh in one smooth, firm motion.

The combination of his forceful tug on Credence’s shorts and the smolderingly lustful look the man was giving him at the same time made Credence whine loudly, his cock springing up, drooling and sticky and so, so needy. Graves smoothed a comforting hand over his belly, pressing another soft, ticklish kiss at the edge of his pubic hair. ‘Oh, baby. What a beautiful dick, so wet for me.’ And then he would finally wrap his fingers around it and lick the glossy pre-come from the tip, and Credence would jerk slightly and whimper again, pressing one hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.

‘No, no, baby, I want to hear you, sweet thing,’ Graves murmured, his moist lips kissing the flushed tip. ‘We’re all alone here. Let it out for me.’ And then, without warning, he sucked Credence’s cock down, the tight heat and moist suction more perfect than he had ever imagined.

Credence would be helpless to hold in his moans, shouting in ecstasy, ‘Oh, yes, yes… Mmmh… Graves! Oh my God that feels so… Ah!… So good…’

He wouldn’t last long, of course, his gasps and cries bouncing off the tiled walls as he spiraled higher into pleasure, the shuddering, white-out kind, pulled from deep within him by the expert pressure of Graves’ mouth as he let out a keening wail and spurted, hot and satisfying, down the man’s throat.

After his usual cleanup routine, the real Credence silently wobbled back to bed on legs that shook from his climax and slept so well the rest of the night he didn’t even remember any dreams.

-

Wednesday flew by in a flurry of baking and prep for the special orders, with the occasional dull moment at the counter where Credence tried to keep his thoughts in line with work. Yoga that night was a frustrating tease; he and Graves didn’t get any moments alone, of course, so all he could do was try and tell the man with his smile how much he was looking forward to kissing him again. And then there was Newt, who came in to class at the last moment, looking harried, with lines of stress around his mouth that Credence desperately wanted to smooth away. He couldn’t take his eyes off the worried set of Newt’s face the entire lesson, staring at him in concern throughout the evening as he led them patiently through the poses and smiled wearily when someone asked him a question about the wallabies on his shirt.

Immediately when the lesson was over, Newt packed up his things and hurried over to Credence, who gaped up at him in astonished surprise.

“Credence, I… I was wondering if your cousin wouldn’t mind giving me a ride home again tonight. I normally wouldn’t impose two times in a row, but one of my dogs had to go to the vet yesterday and he’s still a bit shaken up. He’ll be fine, but I just I hate leaving him alone. Driving would be faster than the bus, I think, if Tina would be up for it.” Newt’s eyes were wide and there was a small pinched furrow between his brows. He was clutching his bag in a white-knuckled grip as Credence scrambled to his feet.

“Of course, Newt. She’d be happy to. We’d be glad to have you ride with us every night if you wanted! But I am so sorry about the circumstances, and I hope your dog recovers quickly. Here, we can go downstairs now and see if they’re out.” He nearly toppled over, trying to get his shoes on and sling his bag across his shoulder at the same time. When he bent to roll up his mat, he tripped over a poorly tied shoelace that was coming undone and strong hands steadied him.

“Here, Credence, let me put your mat away in your bag while you tie that shoe. We don’t want you falling, alright?” Graves ran a hand down his back as Credence nodded and took a breath. There was something about seeing Newt hurt and stressed that made Credence feel like he needed to do everything in his power right away to make it better. 

“Yes, that’s the last thing we want,” agreed Newt gently, still looking a bit pained. “Please don’t feel you have to sprint or anything. You know, I’m probably just worrying over nothing, really. A few minutes won’t make much difference here or there. My animals… They’re just… I really care about them, they’re like family. It’s… I get a bit distraught when they’re ill in any way. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to rush, Credence.”

Credence had his shoes tied properly now, and cautiously reached over to touch Newt’s shoulder. “I understand. My sisters have dogs, and they’re just as much part of the family as the people. Let’s get you home as fast as possible. I promise not to trip again, though.” He looked over his shoulder at Graves, who was now pulling on his own shoes and straightening to join them. They made their way quickly down the stairs, passing Tori with a brief wave and halting in dismay next to the ellipticals, where there was no sign of Tina and Queenie. “Oh. They must not be out of their class yet. I can go get them,” Credence declared, and bravely made to head over to the kickboxing studio to find his cousins.

But Newt grabbed his arm gently. “No, no, Credence, I’d hate to interrupt. It’s probably just their cool-down that’s left. I… I can wait another minute or two. It’s fine.” But it didn’t look fine. Newt’s face was pinched and his cheeks were slightly pale, and Credence noted absently that the man’s eyes had none of their usual luminous joy.

“Are you sure?” he breathed, unable to resist sliding a bit closer in an unconscious effort to comfort him.

“Yes,” Newt said quickly, “Waiting makes no difference. And it will be fine, I’m sure. The vet said he must have just eaten something he was sensitive to, and he’s mostly better now, but he’s been so miserable. I’m just feeling a little… unmoored.”

Graves was a warm, solid presence on Newt’s other side, his voice low and soothing. “I could give you a ride right now, Newt, if that would help,” he offered. “Or maybe… Would it help to talk about it, or would you rather be distracted?”

Newt looked up at him in soft surprise, his pink lips parting. “I… Well, I suppose a distraction would be welcome. That’s… Thank you for asking. Er, Credence, what kind of dogs do your sisters have?”

They settled in to wait against the wall behind the ellipticals, Newt bracketed between the two of them, as Credence told him all about the Grants’ three German Shepherds, who each had very distinct personalities. By the time Tina and Queenie found them a few minutes later, the tight set of the man’s shoulders had eased and he was grinning at the description of Molly’s odd antics with a squirrel toy.

“Hey, Newt, you coming with us tonight?” Queenie asked eagerly. “We were hoping you would.”

“Er, yes, I really appreciate the ride. Especially today. One of my dogs is feeling a bit poorly.”

Tina’s eyes immediately widened. “Oh! Well, we should get going then, right away!” she exclaimed, while Queenie nodded and hurried them all out to the parking lot. Newt looked deeply grateful and also rather fond. 

“Credence, I see where you get it from,” he murmured while Tina was unlocking the car. “Your incredible caring.”

Credence turned to look at him in surprise, lost as always in the beauty of Newt’s soft smile, the sweet kindness in his bright green eyes. “Oh,” was all he managed to gasp before the man was sliding gracefully into the car, leaving Credence to hurry after him into the front seat, calling a farewell to Graves as he went.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the man called as he started to back away toward his own car. “Hope everything works out.”

Credence hoped the same, desperately. Not only did he want Newt’s dog to get better as fast as possible, he hoped this entire tangle worked out well for everyone involved. Graves’ face had been soft and tender just now, his full attention directed at Newt as he worried about his dog. Was there more than just simple interest building between the two of them? Graves was already attracted to Newt physically, and maybe all that had been missing until now was a chance to build an emotional foundation underneath. The thought filled Credence with something like a blend of joy and dread. Would Credence end up the odd one out after all?

But letting his mind wander over vague possible futures was not going to help Newt’s dog tonight. When they got to his brick apartment, Credence was struck by a desperate need to help more, clinging to the idea of being useful and easing Newt’s worry.

“Would you be able to use an extra pair of hands? I know I won’t smell familiar, but if you think your dog wouldn’t be upset by a stranger I can help out however you need,” he promised, somewhat anxiously. Newt paused halfway out of the car. “Please, Newt, is there anything I can do? Even just make tea?”

“Credence,” Newt said softly. “That would be lovely, if you’re sure you want to.”

Credence was out of the car almost before he had finished speaking. “I’m sure. I can make you dinner too, if you don’t have anything already.”

Newt looked a little taken aback. “Gosh, that’s very kind of you. I… I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of ingredients right now. Meant to go to the store yesterday, but I had to take Pickett to the vet instead. Why don’t I order us something?” He smiled tentatively. “Do you like Thai?”

Credence beamed at him in happy surprise. “Yes! I just tried it for the first time this week and it was wonderful.” He turned to Tina, poking her head out the driver’s side window. “I’ve got my phone on me. I can walk home later, it’s only a few blocks.” There was an unspoken question there, a request for permission under his words. There had been a time not so long ago when letting him wander around alone at night was not a good idea. But he was confident now. He could handle this.

“Alright,” she said carefully. “Why don’t we exchange numbers with Newt too, just in case.” That was probably a good idea, even though the reason behind it made Credence feel a hot swirl of shame. Just in case, meaning that if Credence had a panic attack and couldn’t get to his phone, Newt could call them for help. He didn’t think that anything was going to upset him here, but they had been caught unawares before and it was not an experience any of them wanted to repeat.

He watched as Newt rattled off his number and Tina sent him a text in return, including Queenie and Credence in the group message, and then she flashed him a reassuring smile and pulled out of the parking spot. Queenie gave them one last wave from the back seat as their headlights swept off down the street, and then he was alone with Newt on the sidewalk.

“Well, I can’t thank you enough for your help, Credence,” the man said, “You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, of course. I have a bit of a menagerie up there.” He huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “I can’t seem to stop bringing them home from the rescue shelter. If you wouldn’t mind feeding the rest of them so that they aren’t jumping all over me for their dinner, that would free me up to concentrate on Pickett. I have to coax him to eat right now, and it’s a bit of extra work. I’m supposed to be giving him bone broth while his stomach recovers from whatever that was, but he won’t drink it up unless I pet him the whole time and reassure him. The neurotic little bugger.”

Credence smiled softly at the affection in Newt’s voice as he let them in through the iron gate and then led them up a set of outdoor stairs to a cheery door, its window decorated with a decal of a witch on a broom with a cat in her lap. The sound of barking could be heard inside, a chorus of loud yips and ruffs.

“Oh dear, they aren’t usually this rowdy. Er, don’t worry Credence, they are just a bit on edge right now; they can sense something is worrying me today, I think. Plus they love new friends. They will want to sniff you and everything, probably lick you too, not that you have to let them. If anybody jumps on you too much, just say ‘Down!’ as firmly as you can and they ought to listen.”

“It’s alright,” Credence reassured him, “I don’t mind a bit of slobber. It does wash off, after all.”

Newt’s eyes crinkled as he beamed at him. “Very true.”

Then he was opening the door and they were squeezing inside, and sure enough Credence was surrounded by four very excited dogs trying their best to jump on top of him while he totteringly removed his shoes. He caught a glimpse of an enormous tabby cat lounging on the couch across the room before his attention was brought back to the dogs, who seemed to be calming down a bit at Newt’s voice.

“Alright, it’s alright. Mum’s here. Settle down, now, all of you. Stop jumping on Credence, we want him to come visit again. Yes, I know you’re excited,” he said, as one of the larger two dogs nuzzled him rather forcefully in the leg. “Alright, Frank, darling, I missed you too. Yes, hush Dougal.” He turned to Credence, whose hand was being busily licked by a small tubby black dog while a tiny slender dog wearing a turtleneck stared up at him dolefully. A big shaggy silver canine who looked to have some husky in him was watching Credence intently, still barking. “He’s not usually this vocal. Dougal, stop that. Yes, I know! You are so happy to have a new friend, aren’t you?”

The apartment smelled of dog treats and Newt’s shampoo and some sort of lovely cinnamon, leather and cedar scent that was probably coming from the furniture. As Newt extracted himself from Frank’s enthusiastic attentions, he led Credence into a surprisingly spacious kitchen with a row of food dishes against the far wall, waving an embarrassed hand at the stack of dirty plates in the sink. “Er, sorry about the mess. I would’ve cleaned up a bit more if I knew you were coming.” 

Credence shook his head immediately. “Don’t worry about it. The apartment is wonderful. It’s got so much space!” It really did. Newt’s building was older and nicer than the one he and his cousins were in, and it was clearly a more expensive apartment. Newt seemed to have half the floor of the building to himself, based on the glimpse of the doors leading off the tidy living room they had come in through.

“Does it?” Newt said, sounding surprised. “Oh, well, I suppose it was quite a lucky find. My first time apartment hunting in America, and I found a landlord who allows pets! The house I grew up in back home was quite large, with a big garden, so it was an adjustment at first, felt like fitting myself and all my things into a space the size of a suitcase. But everything is relative, isn’t it? The suitcase has grown to fit everything I need, and now it doesn’t seem either big or small. Just the right size.” 

Newt grinned over at Credence, who was struck by how innocent he seemed of his good fortune. A happy childhood on some sort of big estate, likely with a well-off family who could afford to help him pay for this place now – there was no way that teaching yoga and doing the occasional massage work was making him all that much money, and he surely didn’t get any income from his volunteer job at the clinic. It appeared that Newt was independently wealthy, which didn’t make Credence nearly as envious as the fact that his parents clearly loved him very much. There were signs of it throughout the kitchen, a number of photos on the fridge depicting Newt between two genially smiling people, the woman’s head resting on Newt’s shoulder and his father’s arm around them both. There was another picture of two small red-haired boys playing in a garden with what looked like a whole fleet of Corgis.

“My brother,” Newt said softly, noticing where Credence was looking. “Theseus. We loved playing with the dogs growing up. My mother breeds them, you see. Welsh Corgis. Possibly the most adorable dogs in existence, if you ask her. But I find it impossible to pick favorites. Oh! Right, speaking of, I ought to do some introductions. The big, shaggy menace who was barking at you is Dougal, and this sweet battering ram is Frank,” he said, stroking a hand over the large dog with short yellowish fur who had been forcefully nuzzling him at the door. “All of them are mixes, brought in to the shelter without much background information, so I'm not really sure what breeds they are. The little black one is Bandit, who will eat anything if you let him, food or not, especially if it is shiny, so I always have to keep a sharp eye out so he doesn’t make himself sick. Surprisingly, though, he’s not the one with the upset stomach tonight,” he said with a sigh. “Isn’t that right, Pickett?”

The littlest dog was shivering slightly despite his turtleneck sweater, sticking close to Newt and staring up at him with slightly watery eyes. As they watched, he let out a small whine. “Oh, darling,” Newt cooed, bending to cuddle him close, the dog’s slender tail wagging a bit and his tongue coming out to lick Newt’s cheek half-heartedly. “I know, I know,” he murmured, “you poor thing, you were puking on me all day yesterday. It’s a good thing I love you so much. Will you let me give you your broth this time? No more turning your nose up at it, my love. That won’t help you stay hydrated.”

Credence’s heart was long since melted, but hearing the gentleness in Newt’s voice when he spoke to his animals was possibly the sweetest thing in the world. “The lounging feline you saw in the living room is Morgana, the queen of the whole house.” Newt was now busily rummaging through the fridge for a tupperware container of broth, which he poured into a bowl and microwaved for a few seconds. “If you feel up to it, I’ll leave you out here with the rest of them while I take Pickett into the bathroom and try and get him to eat. The others are going to smell the broth and try and investigate, which sometimes means Frank will try and knock the door down, because he is ridiculous. If you could just do your best to distract them and pull them back in here, that would be lovely. They ought to be easily lured by food. You can put two scoops into each of the big dogs’ bowls, two thirds of a scoop for Bandit, and a half a can of cat food from inside the fridge for Morgie.”

“Alright, no problem,” Credence said with more confidence than he felt. He wasn’t afraid of the animals, just the importance of the responsibility. What if one of them got hurt somehow on his watch? Newt smiled gratefully at him and then scooped Pickett up gently in his arms.

“Here we go, darling. Oh, sweetheart, you’re shivering. We need to get you something warmer than that turtleneck, don’t we.” He disappeared with the little dog back into the living room, the other three eagerly trying to follow but clearly still intrigued by Credence. Quickly, he stood and opened the large tub of food on the counter, scooping some into each of the bowls monogrammed with their names. The noise of the rattling of the kibble in the bowls did the trick, and Frank, Dougal, and Bandit perked up and came back to investigate, Dougal immediately chowing down while Bandit wandered over to lick Credence’s hands and then meandered over to eat as well. Frank came over to sniff the food, but then his wistful gaze turned back toward where Newt had gone, nose twitching.

“It’s alright Frank,” Credence said hesitantly, “He’ll be back, don’t worry.” Frank turned to look at him, his solemn dark eyes making it seem as if he was assessing the credibility of Credence’s words. Dogs had a way of making it seem like they were listening, at least on some level, which may have been why Credence had often felt the inexplicable urge to talk to them. When he was younger he had much preferred to talk quietly to one of the dogs tied outside the community center and scratch its ears rather than listen to his mother preach another sermon on the immorality of today’s society. Animals were easier than people. They wanted food, comfort and love, and they didn’t have any hang-ups about asking for it. No doubt, no second guessing, no ‘but is it a sin to want someone to hug me?’ None of that.

Credence hadn’t realized how starved for affection he was until he moved in with Tina and Queenie and found himself shaking and shivering just as much as Pickett when they would come back home from work and kiss him on the forehead and wrap an arm around his shoulders. Dogs and cats understood the value of physical affection, of reassurance and sharing warmth and scent. 

Frank made one more attempt to follow Newt, but Credence rattled his food bowl again and he reluctantly came back, sniffing Credence’s face where he was crouched next to the other two dogs and then licking his cheek wetly before beginning to eat. The cat food was easy to find in the fridge, a partially used can sealed under a plastic cap, and Credence startled a bit when he turned around and Morgana was already sitting next to her bowl and staring up at him like he was keeping her waiting.

“My goodness, you were quick!” he murmured. “You knew what was coming, didn’t you, Miss Kitty.” He carefully scooped her food into the bowl, and she began to eat much more delicately than the dogs next to her, her long striped tail swishing slightly in satisfaction. Credence stepped back and rinsed out the empty can, staring at the dishes in the sink. Would it be completely presumptuous of him to wash them?

But the dogs seemed content to eat a while longer, and Newt might need some time to convince Pickett to drink his broth. It would surely be a help to him not to have to do these later, even if there weren’t that many. Resolved, Credence pulled off his hoodie and slung it over a chair in the little breakfast nook, filling the sink with hot soapy water. He made quick work of it, and was just putting the last of the plates into the drying rack when he felt something wet against his ankle.

“Oh!” Bandit was licking the bare skin under the hem of his yoga pants, snuffling slightly. “What are you doing, silly?” Credence saw that Dougal also seemed to be finished eating for the time being, busily sniffing Morgana’s empty bowl as she licked her chops lazily. Credence dried his hands and crouched to pet Bandit, who wiggled in pleasure when he scratched through the short fur on his back. “What do we do now?” he wondered softly.

The answer, apparently, was cuddle on the sofa. 

Frank abruptly decided he was done with his dinner as well, and went trotting out into the living room with Credence hurrying in his wake in case he was going to try and push into the bathroom. Luckily, all he seemed interested in was briefly chewing on a toy squirrel on the floor and then eagerly nudging Credence in the thigh. “What’s up, buddy?” Credence smoothed a hand over his velvety head and then scratched behind his soft ears and Frank seemed to melt a little, pressing his body more firmly against Credence’s legs. And then the big squashy couch was right there, so he sat down, which seemed to be an unintentional signal to the other dogs that he was now available for a cuddle session. 

Newt must sit here and snuggle with them often, because they seemed already to have a fairly demanding expectation of what was going to happen. Credence found himself half-pinned under the weight of Dougal sitting on his feet while Frank leapt up onto the cushion next to him. Bandit took a little running leap and landed on Credence’s other side, and he was just trying to figure out how he was going to pet them all with his two hands when he saw Morgana casually strolling over from the kitchen, her green eyes fixed on his empty lap.

Credence let out a small hysterical giggle. Morgana leapt smoothly up on the arm of the couch, then simply walked right over Frank’s back to slowly wander onto Credence’s thighs, sniffing him carefully and rubbing her long fluffy tail against his arm. “Does that mean you like me?” he whispered, and she ignored the question to rub her tail over his face. When she ultimately settled herself into a neat ball on his lap, she did so with an air of doing him a favor, staring over her shoulder at him with half-lidded green eyes as if to say ‘Well, come on then. You’re the one who sat down. Get to it.’

Huffing in amusement, he settled a hand over her back and pet down her spine, his feet starting to go a little numb as Dougal rearranged himself to lie down fully on top of them. Bandit burrowed closer into his side and Credence did his best to pet him with his free hand while Frank rested his head with a doggy sigh next to Morgana on Credence’s lap.

“How on earth does Pickett fit into all of this, then?” he asked them in quiet amusement after several long moments of contented petting. “I guess you all make room somehow.” Morgana’s body was vibrating under his hand with the force of her purring, and Dougal seemed to have fallen asleep, snoring quietly from the floor. Credence was petting Frank’s ears now with his free hand, and Bandit was nuzzling his elbow.

There was a soft sound from the doorway to the bathroom, and Credence looked up to find that Newt was standing there looking awestruck, Pickett in his arms, his little turtleneck now amended by a thick fleecy blanket.

“Oh,” Credence breathed, “Did you get him to eat his broth?”

Newt was staring at him still, something almost like wonder and sweet longing on his face. “I… Yes,” he said quietly. “We negotiated a bit. He gets to sleep with me tonight in exchange for being such a good boy.” He smoothed an affectionate hand over the fleece blanket covering Pickett’s back and the dog blinked large dark eyes at Credence. “Plus he could use the body warmth right now.” He opened his mouth a few times in apparent bafflement before saying, “I’ve never seen them all take to someone so quickly, Credence.” His eyes were glowing with a soft smile, just one touch of sadness in the slight furrow of his brow. “You… you are incredible. I don’t know why I am surprised; of course they respond well to someone with a gentle energy. It’s like a beacon, I suppose. They can feel it in your hands, in your voice. That they can trust you.” Was… was Newt blushing? “Thank you for coming tonight,” he added quietly. Alright, yes, he was definitely blushing, pink and endearing. “You are welcome to come over any time, Credence. They… They are not the only ones who enjoy your company.”

Now it was Credence’s turn to be shocked into speechlessness. Newt was still blushing, hiding his face a little in Pickett’s neck, his shy gaze flicking between Credence and the floor.

“Thank you, Newt, I would love to,” Credence said reverently. “I appreciate you letting me come over today, I know how special it is to be let into someone’s private space.” He paused biting his lip. “I’ve always felt very protective of my space, anyway. Not to mention you trusting me with the animals.” He ran a hand over Morgana again and she languidly rolled onto her back, one of her hind feet hooking around his wrist to ensure he didn’t stop petting her fluffy belly.

Newt let out a dazed laugh. “You have more than earned their approval, I see. There is no question that I can trust you with them. No, they’ll all be your lifelong friends now,” he chuckled. “Seeing you all on the couch like that is so sweet.” And then, to Credence’s delight, Newt came over and joined them, easing himself down next to Bandit who immediately got up on his back feet and began to try and snuffle his neck. “Yes, darling, it’s me. Yes, hello. I see you are quite happy with Credence out here. Settle down now, don’t jostle Pickett.”

Dougal’s head perked up at the sound of Newt’s voice and Credence breathed a sigh of relief when his bulky weight shifted off of Credence’s feet to come and sit by Newt, his massive head on the man’s knee. Newt let his own head fall onto the back of the couch as he let out a weary sigh, scratching a hand over Dougal’s ears.

“My goodness, it has felt like a long day. Oh, bugger, and I’ve left you out here all this time without anything to eat!” Actually, Credence had hardly noticed his hunger until now, so focused on helping with the animals. Upon the mention of food, however, his stomach let out a hopeful gurgle and Credence blushed. “Oh dear,” Newt said worriedly, “I really am sorry.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Credence hurried to reassure him. “I barely noticed, I was plenty distracted, and you were busy. I could eat now, though. Would you… Do you have a place in mind? I could call for delivery.”

But Newt was already digging into his pocket. “You just relax, Credence, you absolute saint. I’ll take care of it. And it will be my treat,” he said firmly, “for helping me out so much tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Credence couldn’t help but wince at the question. He knew Newt wouldn’t have said it if he wasn’t sure, but accepting free favors from anyone always caused a twinge of guilt in the pit of Credence’s stomach.

“Yes, of course, darling, I insist,” Newt said blithely, busy scrolling through his phone. There was a little pleasurable jolt in Credence’s brain at hearing the same endearment applied to him as to the dogs. Surprisingly, it was a very flattering comparison. “Ah. Here we go. Have you eaten at the Thai place by the gym? I’ve got their menu here, if you aren’t sure what to get.”

“Oh! Actually, I have. Last time I got the green curry, but I would be interested to know what you like,” he said eagerly, and Newt seemed momentarily dazed by the rapt attention on Credence’s face.

“Alright. Er… Well, I quite like anything with noodles and veggies, you see, and peanut sauce. You aren’t allergic, are you?” 

Credence shook his head and grinned. “Why don’t you order whatever you usually get, and I will try it too.”

Newt’s eyes up close were very wide and green as he nodded. “Sure, if you like! I usually ask for low to medium spicy, is that okay?”

“Sounds good,” Credence said softly, watching the soft fringe of Newt’s hair fall in his eyes as he looked back down at his phone and dialed the restaurant.

The evening slipped into something that felt like a dream come true, after that. He and Newt talked on the couch about health food and cooking, which Newt was very interested in but tended to absent-mindedly forget to do, resorting to take-out quite often by his own admission. By the time the dinner arrived they had sunk further into the couch and Credence had curled his legs up onto the cushion, Frank’s snoring head propped on his calves. Newt insisted he stay comfortable while he got up to let in the delivery person, carefully tucking Pickett into Credence’s side next to Bandit. Pickett whined when Newt got up, and the man shushed him gently.

“He has some attachment issues,” he murmured. “Might be a bit of insecurity left over from being the runt of the litter. Darling, hush, I will be right back. Credence will look after you.” Something in Newt’s tone must have registered, because Pickett nestled closer into Credence’s ribs and quieted.

The delivery guy seemed familiar with Newt, not even batting an eyelash when he spotted the pile of pets on the couch and on top of Credence. “Oh, I was wondering why you ordered twice as much as usual,” he said jovially, “Hey, man.”

Credence awkwardly raised a hand in a wave, only for Pickett to whine again, so he hurriedly smoothed a hand over the little dog’s blanket-covered back.

“Well, you all have a nice evening.”

When he was gone, they did their best to eat on the couch without spilling, fending off Bandit’s curious attempts to investigate their food. Morgana was asleep on Credence’s lap, and Pickett was once more happily curled on top of Newt, his eyes closed and his snuffling breaths growing slow and even. The food was delicious, and not too spicy, sending a tingling warmth down into Credence’s stomach from the hint of heat, and Newt was getting more and more animated as he talked, his earlier worry having eased completely. He was so beautiful like this, relaxed and happy, enthusiastically answering Credence’s many questions about what England was like and what animals he had met at the clinic on Sunday and how often a person had to shave their legs to keep them smooth all the time.

“I just do it once in a while,” explained Newt, “but if you are really committed, probably once every two or three days. Depends on how hairy you are,” he added with a mischievous grin, nudging Credence’s knee with his own. “It’s rather a lot of bother, unless you enjoy it. It can be fairly relaxing, if you put on some soothing music and make a bit of a ritual out of it. Nice-smelling lotion afterward and everything. You could come over sometime, I’ll show you. We can have a mini spa.” He watched Credence with hesitant enthusiasm. “If you wanted.”

Credence was probably gazing at Newt every bit as adoringly as any of his dogs in that moment, all starry-eyed worship. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?” he breathed, absently nudging Bandit away from licking the empty food cartons.

“Not at all,” Newt replied. “Would you like to come over on Friday after class again? I’m going to be shaving for Halloween. You probably don’t need to, since you have those lovely silver tights covering your legs, but if you wanted to try it, it might be nice. Half the fun is how your skin feels against fabric after you shave.”

Credence nodded eagerly. He had heard that before, and was keen to experience it for himself. “That sounds wonderful,” he murmured.

Newt smiled, snuggling deeper into the sofa, his eyelids looking a bit heavy. “Excellent. I have plenty of unopened disposable razors you can try, but if you really like this you may want to invest in a nice long-lasting steel one. I switched a while back, and I feel much better about not contributing all those bits of plastic into the landfill.” He yawned and patted Credence’s knee. “But that’s not something you really need to worry about your first time.”

The couch was warm and Newt’s hand was still on his knee and Credence felt about as content as it was possible to be. They fell into a companionable silence, Newt looking close to dozing off while Pickett snored wheezily in his lap and Credence slowly sank into a stupor, lulled by the sleeping animals around him.

Groggily, he blinked, realizing that if he didn’t get up and move now it was only going to get harder and harder to leave. “Newt,” he murmured. “I should let you get to bed, huh? This has been so nice.”

Newt looked up at him drowsily. “Mmm, yes. It was very, very nice. You probably would like to get back home now. Do you know how to get there? Need anything? I am so grateful to you for staying this long.”

“I’ll be fine, Newt, thanks for asking. Just two blocks over and three blocks up,” he replied, carefully easing Morgana into the warm spot he left behind on the couch and stepping over Dougal where he lay splayed out on the floor. Credence pulled his shoes back on and tracked down his yoga bag while Newt blearily opened the door and bit him a sweet, soft goodnight.

Credence descended the stairs, the cold night air abruptly waking him up again. 

Oh, gosh, that had all been so wonderful. What was he going to do? If there was any part of him that hadn’t been completely infatuated with Newt before, it certainly was gone now. There was absolutely no way he could give up on his hope that Newt might grow to return his affections when they had had such a special evening together and Credence was already longing for a repeat. And yet here he was planning a dinner date with Graves for tomorrow and a spa session with Newt the day after. Was it terrible of him to want to spend time with both of them?

He was nearly home by the time he realized he had forgotten his hoodie in Newt’s kitchen, and the bare skin of his arms felt like it was almost numb. He had hardly noticed, though, too preoccupied with his worries and too used to blocking out the discomfort of cold from his mind. But it was too late to go back now, to disrupt Newt again as he was getting ready for bed.

As he let himself into the apartment and readied himself for sleep, he pictured Newt in his pajamas, probably some cozy cute pair with animals printed on them, Pickett in his blanket curled up at his side on the bed. He imagined what it might have been like to stay there and join them, warm and close, to fall asleep with his arms around Newt and his face buried in his hair while Pickett snored softly next to the two of them.

He tossed and turned in bed, wishing he had someone’s arms around him, someone gentle and kind, with lovely eyes.

‘Darling,’ he imagined Newt whispering. ‘You get to sleep with me tonight, because you’ve been such a good boy.’ His hair would smell of eucalyptus and mint, and his clever fingers would stroke over Credence’s cheek.

That did the trick. Picturing Newt’s sleepy eyes and his soft smile, Credence finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, and for your comments and kudos!!!


	10. Eagle Pose

Thursday morning Credence woke up to an adorable picture on his phone of Pickett’s narrow face peeking out from under a blanket, accompanied by a text that said, _Good morning! Thanks again for your help :)_

Eagerly he typed out, _Any time!_ although a more honest answer would’ve been ‘All the time, please, can I just be with you always?’

The previous night had suffused him with the kind of happiness that he would’ve thought impossible not so long ago, and it was hard not to crave more of it. Surprisingly, in his wistfulness, the prospect of finally opening the envelope of photos had lost all of its potential trepidation. It no longer scared him to see himself in the pictures, as long as he got to see Newt again.

And he was beautiful, of course. The envelope contained six prints, three of which were shots of the two of them together, Newt looking elegant in his lovely silk dress and Credence wrapped adoringly around him in the sheer black blouse. There was the pose where they’d stood pressed against each other, Newt in Credence’s arms, both of them looking over his tattooed shoulder at the camera while Credence held him close. Then the one on the couch where Newt was perched gracefully on Credence’s lap, his soft fathomless gaze on the camera while Credence stared up in adoration, his pale hands clinging to Newt’s waist.

The last one, though, was a surprise. Credence could barely remember Tori taking this one, dazed as he had been by the nearness of Newt. He was curled in the man’s arms, lying on the couch with his head pillowed on Newt’s chest, his eyes closed and his hand over Newt’s heart. This must have been the end of the shoot, when Tori got up on a chair to get a higher angle. What was astonishing, however, was the look on Newt’s face. His confident modeling persona had dropped completely; his effortless glowing beauty was still there but his demeanor was much more uncertain, much more like the real Newt, a bit awkward and hesitant but full of warmth. Tori had captured the moment before Newt’s free hand had begun to stroke through Credence’s hair, long fingers hovering hesitantly over his dark head and a soft reverent look of surprise on Newt’s face, accompanied by the faintest of wistful smiles. It was much more candid than the planned shots, Newt letting his feeling show freely on his face. It was beautiful.

Credence spent so long staring at it, lost in the way Newt’s gaze seemed glued to Credence’s relaxed features, his elegant fingers reaching to stroke his hair, that he almost forgot about the last three shots in the envelope. They were of less interest to him because Newt wasn’t in them, but it still gave him a thrilling sort of jolt to see himself again standing in Queenie’s beautiful silver costume, looking surprisingly regal in his mask and crown, his spine straight and his gaze haughty. Then, unexpectedly, a touching close-up shot of his face, cupped securely in Queenie’s hand, her soft make-up brush passing over his cheekbone and the mascara making his lashes look about a mile long. There was a serenity to his features and a powerful vulnerability in his closed eyes. He had no memory of Tori taking this photo, and the small unconscious smile that she had caught on film made him a bit breathless. The image encapsulated the kind of peace and happiness that he had admired so much when he saw Newt doing yoga, a complete lack of fear and worry, a freedom from the sort of anxiety that had dogged him for so long. In that moment, she’d seen a glimpse of a different Credence through the camera, one who had the courage and the support to be whoever he wanted to be. And if he could be captured once, perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to find him again.

The final shot was a more traditional portrait, Credence sitting on the couch looking more at ease than he would’ve thought possible before the shoot. Tori’s slow warm up had worked, though, and his pose looked completely natural, the silver thread of the tunic glittering slightly in the studio lights and the lean of his elbow on the arm of the couch somehow making the breadth of his shoulders stand out and the relaxed curl of his hand look almost graceful. He was gazing up into the camera, his eyes alight with joy and longing and a nascent smile playing around the corners of his mouth, instinctively leaning slightly in the direction of the lens. 

For those who knew who had been standing behind the photographer, the context was perfectly clear: Newt was the sun, and Credence was a flower, unable to resist stretching toward his warmth. He was completely infatuated.

Credence stared at the naked evidence of his feelings, a rumbling wave of joy and fear and relief washing through him. Well. There was no point in being in denial, after all. Strangely, the clarity of seeing himself through Tori’s eyes and the keen lens of her camera was a boon of sorts, making his feelings seem more real, crystalizing them into something valid and human and beautiful. Now he just needed to figure out what to do about them, and how to reconcile his feelings for Graves. One bond did not eclipse the other, after all.

Credence took a deep breath. Taking one last hungry look at the unguarded affection on Newt’s face in the photo of them twined together on the couch, he carefully packed the photos away in his bag and headed off to catch the bus for work, mind still racing.

The morning passed in a comfortable blur of rolling out dough, although the third time Credence caught himself staring longingly at his bag and daydreaming about the photos he forced himself to stop. There were too many pastries to be made today to be zoning out in the middle of each batch. When it was time for his lunch, he finally got to sneak a look into his bag, although he was distracted by an alert on his phone.

 _Oh, gosh! Credence, I just found your sweatshirt in my kitchen, I am so sorry I didn’t notice it last night! You must have been freezing on your walk home. I feel awful!_ Newt had sent that shortly after Credence’s reply message that morning. Wincing, he hurriedly wrote an answer.

_Please, please don’t feel bad. I was fine, didn’t really notice the cold, and it was my fault for forgetting it anyway! The walk was short and by the time I remembered it I was almost home and I didn’t want to bother you._

He pressed send, and barely had to wait a minute before the screen lit up once more. _It would’ve been no bother, Credence, I promise. I hate the idea of you out in the cold. What if I brought it by your apartment later today? I’m free after my shift at the animal shelter._

Credence bit his lip, feeling torn. Newt’s concern was making him feel warm inside, and he would love nothing more than to see him again today. But after work was the bus ride home and then the gym and then dinner with Graves. And who knew how late that would go. Credence’s heart pounded harder at the thought. _I won’t be home much this evening, but if you happened to have a moment to stop by between 4:30 and 5:00, that would work. If not, no worries, I can get it from you tomorrow in class :)_

He wasn’t sure which reply he was hoping for more, to get to see Newt and consequently have a fresh imprint of his beautiful smile branded in his mind during his date with Graves, or to wait until tomorrow to see him and gain a reprieve from all the emotions being crammed into him in such a condensed period of time.

But the decision was out of his hands. _I’ll be there! :D Just send me the address_ , read the reply, cheery and immutable.

It seemed Newt was a smiley user, just like Credence, and that little digital happy face stayed in his thoughts all through the afternoon as he rang up customers and packed up dozens of pastries in crinkling sheets of wax paper. When the afternoon had crawled past and it was finally four o’clock, Credence was out of the bakery like a shot, nearly colliding with Jacob’s cousin Andrei as he came in the door for the evening shift and sprinting to the bus stop. Luck was on his side, and the bus was on time, dropping him in front of the apartment in plenty of time to run upstairs and fuss in the mirror for a few moments before rolling his eyes at himself. If Newt hadn’t cared about Credence’s sweaty, messy post-yoga look yesterday, he certainly wasn’t going to mind the fact that his hair wasn’t in a perfect bun today or how pink his cheeks were from the icy air. He smeared on some chapstick to soothe the roughness of his lips and rubbed some moisturizer on his hands and face.

The buzzer sounded just as he was checking his phone again, slightly obsessively, nearly dropping it in his hurry to get to the answering machine at the door.

“Hello?” he managed.

“Credence! It’s Newt. Sorry to ask you to come out into the cold, but I’ve got all the lads with me on a walk and I don’t want them making a mess of your apartment.”

“Oh, alright,” Credence said, uncomprehending for a moment until he heard a familiar bark. Ah! Those lads.

“Dougal, hush,” came Newt’s stern voice, slightly muffled, and the noise stopped immediately. “There we go, good boy. Er, I’ve got your sweatshirt here. Ah. I think your landlady may be on her way out to ask me what I’m doing, making sure I’m not going to bring all these dogs inside. Yes, hullo ma’am, don’t worry, we’re not going up.” There was a muffled voice that must have been Mrs. Esposito. “Oh, yes, they’re very well behaved, but I completely understand no pets are allowed on the property. No problem at all, just waiting for a friend to come down. Oh, Bandit, no, no, stop that, her shoe buckle is not food! Come back here, lads! Sit! All of you. Good, that’s very good.”

Credence stifled a laugh, pulling the door open at the same time as he replied, “I’m on my way!” and hurried down the stairs. He was met with the hilarious sight of Mrs. Esposito shaking Newt’s hand and being slowly charmed by the dogs, who appeared to be on their best behavior despite their rowdy introduction. Bandit was still eyeing her shoe hopefully while Dougal and Frank sat still and docile, staring up at her with big puppy eyes and leaning into her hands as she pet them hesitantly. She seemed put at ease by the fact that Newt was clearly very adept at managing them all, and had no trouble ensuring they didn’t jump on her, unlike yesterday with Credence. It was rather impressive actually. Perhaps the firmness in Newt’s voice and his steady grip on the leash helped impress upon them the importance of good manners right now.

When Credence slipped out the door, though, Frank’s head swung immediately in his direction and all three dogs seemed to strain against Newt’s command, Dougal’s massive fluffy tail wagging against the man’s ankles and Bandit staring eagerly at the shiny buttons on Credence’s coat.

“Hello, Mrs. Esposito,” he said politely, “Newt, thank you so much for coming by. I’m sorry for being so forgetful.”

“Nonsense,” the man replied quickly, “It was no problem. I hate to imagine how cold you must have been without your jacket, though.” He was himself wrapped up in his blue peacoat, an odd bulk around his middle that Credence initially thought must be the result of some layers underneath. However, when he reached into his bag to pull out Credence’s old hoodie the collar spread open slightly and a small pointy face poked out, dark solemn eyes slightly watery still.

“Oh,” exclaimed Mrs. Esposito.

“Pickett!” said Credence in surprise. “How is he doing today?”

“Ah!” Newt beamed, “Somewhat improved, I am glad to say. I’ve been keeping him as warm as possible and letting him rest, and he seems to be on the mend.” He turned to explain to Mrs. Esposito, “A bit of a stomach upset, you see. He’s been feeling poorly, and Credence was a wonderful help with the rest of them last night while I was doing a tricky job of convincing him to eat.” He stroked a gentle hand over the small dog’s sleek head where it was peeping out from between the lapels of his coat. 

“He is so precious,” breathed Mrs. Esposito, “and he looks so content in there.”

Newt chuckled. “Oh, yes, he loves the baby sling. I’m afraid I indulged him a bit too long as a puppy when he injured his foot, and now he thinks this is normal. It is quite cozy, though. Isn’t that right, darling?” His voice grew soft at the end and he ran a finger over Pickett’s small ear. The dog snuffled quietly and tucked his nose back into the warmth of Newt’s collar.

Not to be ignored for long, Bandit had taken advantage of their distraction to resume his quest for Mrs. Esposito’s shoe buckles while Frank leaned over to stealthily lick Credence’s hand. Dougal was straining toward both of them, hoping for more head scratches from somebody.

“Oh, I say, you lot are such attention hogs, aren’t you?” Newt exclaimed fondly. “Bandit, stop that. Yes, Frank, I know, Credence is wonderful, but we aren’t visiting him for long today. Come along.” He pulled them all back into a tidy line with a flick of the leash and an affectionate firmness, and Credence was left feeling rather flustered by the commanding tone of his voice.

“My goodness!” said Mrs. Esposito in fascination. “You really know how to handle them. How do you manage that?”

“Er… thank you. I… I suppose it comes with practice. And a great deal of love and understanding,” Newt said bashfully. “But I probably ought to be going now, or they may spoil the good first impression they’ve made by refusing to leave. I can tell they’ve all already decided they like you, ma’am, and they’re mad for Credence as well.”

“Oh! Well,” Mrs. Esposito looked quite pleased at his words, her normally stern face crinkling into a small smile. “We won’t keep you any longer, then. It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Scamander. Where do you meet such polite, wonderful friends, Mr. Goldstein? I am quite impressed. You ought to invite him round again, any time. Both Mr. Scamander and your Mr. Graves.”

Credence was momentarily stuck on the fact that Newt’s surname was Scamander, which sounded so much like salamander that he wondered if one of the man’s parents had had the pun in mind when they named him, and then the last thing she said sank in and his cheeks flamed in a blush. Newt’s eyes had widened at the mention of Graves, but the landlady hadn’t noticed, still eyeing Credence with an indulgent look, like she had just offered him a great favor. He supposed that in her mind she had; she was giving him her blessing to have guests at any hour without her suspicious meddling, which normally would be nothing to sniff at. But she had also unintentionally exposed something he hadn’t been quite ready to tell Newt about yet.

“Uhm… oh, yes, uh, thank you, Mrs. Esposito.” He coughed awkwardly, finding it hard to speak around his hammering heartbeat. “He’s… I’m not sure he’s really _my_ Mr. Graves,” he found himself choking out desperately, worried about Newt’s feelings. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, we’ve just… I mean, he’s – we’re friends, and I’m not sure yet… well…” There was no way to explain that he was torn in half and smitten with two people at once and Graves was being incredibly patient while he figured everything out, but they had also kissed a few times. Credence’s tongue felt like it had tied itself into a knot; Newt’s face was carefully blank and Credence’s heart was turning to lead.

But Mrs. Esposito wasn’t done yet, apparently. “Nonsense, young man. That gentleman knows exactly what he’s doing, I could see it in his eye. Old fashioned, that one,” she said with a wistful sigh. “Just like my husband was. He’s courting you, properly and with a great deal of respect.” And then, to make matters worse, she turned to Newt breathlessly. “Quite the handsome man, too, just like my Giacomo. Not one to let slip away.” Her eyes were a bit distant and misty, and it was clear she was partially lost in a memory as she murmured, “Best of luck to you, Credence. I hope you have a wonderful evening.” She patted him gently on the shoulder and it wasn’t until she had left them standing awkwardly on the sidewalk and let herself inside that he realized she’d called him by his first name.

There was a moment’s pause, and then Newt said carefully. “Well, I… I will see you tomorrow in class, Credence.”

Dismayed, his head snapped around to stare at the man’s slightly guarded expression. Was… was he no longer invited over after class to spend time at Newt’s apartment? Was that why he was only mentioning the class? The thought that he had hurt the man’s feelings badly enough that he wouldn’t want to spend time together made shame burn awfully in his chest.

“I… Newt,” he croaked, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you, or to… to prevent you from… from…” He was having a bit of trouble breathing now, his pulse hammering, and Frank was suddenly nosing at his hand and whining.

“Oh, Credence, you don’t owe me an apology! Goodness, are you alright? Frank, what’s wrong?” Newt was suddenly right there, cupping Credence’s cheek in his warm palm and helping him sit down on the steps up to the gate. “Credence, darling, breathe. I can assure you that you’ve done nothing wrong. If you and Graves are beginning a relationship, I am happy for you,” he said, and his voice was so gentle and kind that it hurt sharply in Credence’s chest.

“But,” he gasped, “you like him.” It finally came out, painful and honest, clawing its way out of his throat. “I’m… I got in the way.” The words burned him from the inside, stripping him raw and bare. He watched as Newt’s face fell and his eyes grew sad.

“I…” he breathed, sounding a bit horrified, “Credence, I am so sorry if it seemed that way.” He swallowed hard. “I won’t deny I was interested, but I stopped trying to flirt when I realized the two of you were so close. I… I was just…It was silly. Completely ridiculous. I liked him so much right off the bat because he… he has a cat.” 

A cat? Credence was a bit thrown by this transition. 

“He adopted her from the rescue shelter where I work, a little while back,” Newt went on. “Not a young, healthy cat, but an old sick one. Nobody wanted to adopt her and she was breaking my heart every day in that cage, and then he came in one day and… well. I… I had a bit of an infatuation with him for how sweet he was with her every time he brought her in for a checkup. But I… being the coward I am, I just lurked in the stockroom cleaning the equipment and stared at him, so we didn’t even talk. He probably didn’t even see me. I was so amazed when he walked into my yoga class, and finally I could approach him when I wasn’t covered in cat litter, but that didn’t mean I had any right to him. You were not in the way. If anything, I was. I never meant to make you feel any worry. I am certainly not in the business of ruining anybody else’s happiness if I can help it, and I am so sorry if it seemed like I was trying to steal him from you.” 

He smoothed a hesitant hand over Credence’s arm while Frank planted his head firmly on Credence’s knee, looking up at him searchingly. “Can you forgive me?” Newt asked softly, his green eyes warm and clear and devastating and his words bringing forth a new wash of misery through Credence’s whole body.

“But there’s nothing to forgive. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Credence insisted. “Newt, I… we aren’t even properly dating yet. I have no claim, I can’t even seem to make up my mind if I am ready for a real relationship and all I do is make him wait. H-He would probably be happier with you.” Oh, boy. The words, now uncorked, that had been stored behind a barrier of restraint for the past week now seemed unable to stop flowing. “And I’m… I am m-making such a big mess of this. I… I have feelings for him, but I also… It’s gotten so complicated somehow and I don’t know what I am doing,” he said miserably, his eyes feeling suspiciously hot.

“Oh, darling,” Newt breathed, “there’s nothing wrong with taking it slow. If you aren’t sure you are ready, it is his job to wait. If he’s not patient enough to do that, then he’s a lesser man than either of us deserves.” Newt was kneeling in front of Credence now, carefully tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “But I think he will wait, happily. Because you are worth it and he cares about you, just as much as you care about him. That much is so clear every time I see the two of you together. All the rest of it can seem scary and complicated, but if you have that foundation and you are honest about what you need and want, I think you can work it out.”

Credence huffed, suddenly feeling hopeless in the face of those familiar optimistic words. Honesty and communication. Well, here goes. “But I also have feelings for someone else,” he rasped, a bit more forcefully than he meant to. Bandit looked up in momentary surprise from where he was chewing on Credence’s shoelaces.

Newt’s eyes had widened. “Ah.” His soft pink lips were parted slightly. “Alright, I can see how that is more complex. And you… er, you aren’t sure which… which person you prefer?” 

Credence shook his head. “No,” he croaked. “I know that it is terrible of me to be so greedy, but I have been trying, over and over for the past two weeks to just force myself to let go of one or the other and I c-can’t seem to do it. I just… I think about cutting away the part of me that wants either one, trying to ignore it, but it won’t go away.”

Newt carefully squeezed his hand. “I don’t know if something like that can be forced, Credence. And I would hardly call you greedy, you just happen to be attached very firmly, it sounds like. When you really like someone, you give them a large piece of yourself, and right now the fact that you’ve got enough for two in the space of your affections is… actually, one might even call it generous. The opposite of greedy.”

“But,” Credence whispered, “it still might end up hurting someone’s feelings.”

“Well, yes, if you aren’t careful, it could. Have you told Graves about this other person yet?” Newt’s eyes were very serious.

“No,” Credence breathed, shamefaced. “I don’t know if the other, um… if they feel anything for me, yet. But I do need to tell Graves, don’t I?”

“I’d say so. It sounds like you still haven’t committed to a relationship yet, so you have nothing to fear by owning up to your feelings. I am sure he will appreciate your honesty, even if it may be painful to hear. In the long run, it is better, I promise,” he added, a shadow crossing over his face. “Secrets, even small ones, have a way of self-spawning and growing to devour your happiness.”

Credence’s eyes widened. “You sound like you are speaking from experience.”

Newt sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, yes. But that is a story for another time. If you really wish to hear it, I will tell you tomorrow at my place, but I assure you it is quite dreary.”

“You…” Credence whispered reverently, “you still want me to come over?”

The man’s face softened. “Of course!” he said, softly incredulous, “Credence, I am not any less interested in spending time with you just because you’ve got a lot on your mind. If anything, I am hoping I can help you somehow. But only if you feel up for it. Do you still want to come?”

“Yes,” he answered hurriedly, almost before the question had fully left Newt’s lips. “I am looking forward to it so much.”

“Well then,” Newt smiled, “we will stick to the plan.”

There were footsteps behind Credence, suddenly rushing out the doors and startling them both.

“Credence!” wheezed Tina, “There you are! I’ve been calling your phone, I came up from the parking garage and the door was unlocked and you weren’t in the… apartment… Oh,” she said, coming to a halt, “Hello, Newt.” Her narrowed eyes flicked between them, taking in the suspicious shine of Credence’s slightly red-rimmed eyes and their still-clutched hands.

Newt straightened up smoothly, adjusting Pickett in his sling. “Tina, it’s nice to see you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep him talking so long.” He used their joined hands to help Credence to his feet as well, then let go to gather the dogs back to his side with a gentle tug on their leashes. “My goodness, the time goes fast. I will let you get on with your evening. Tina, I must tell you briefly before I go that Credence is amazing with dogs. He was a wonderful help last night, and I was terribly grateful. Pickett is on the mend now.” He pressed a hand against the bulge under his coat, smiling softly. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Tina said politely, still looking a bit confused.

Newt nodded awkwardly. “Yes… er, thank you. Well, I’ll be going now. See you tomorrow, Credence. Good night!”

And then, indeed, he was gone, hurrying away into the falling dusk with two large loping shadows at his heels and one small tubby shape trotting alongside.

Credence twisted the hoodie lightly between his hands, staring after him, before turning to Tina. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “What time is it?”

“Almost five fifteen,” she replied, and he winced and hurried up the steps toward her. “Credence, it wasn’t the time I was worried about,” she said softly as they went in through the front doors and climbed up to their floor. “You know that, right? I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Should’ve occurred to me that you might just have answered the door. I’m in the habit of driving around back and going in the garage entrance, so I didn’t see you on the way in.”

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Credence mumbled, still clutching the sweatshirt like a lifeline.

“No, I’m… That’s not… You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad you got to talk to Newt. Was it… Was the talk good? You seem a little down.” 

He relaxed a little as she rubbed a hand over his back, letting out a short sigh. “It was… important. I don’t know if it was good or bad yet, but Newt was wonderful. As usual. I just have to find a way to tell Graves how I feel about him now.”

Tina slowly let out a measured breath. “Ah. That’s… That doesn’t sound easy.”

“No, not really,” Credence huffed. “But it is only fair to let him decide if he still wants to stick with someone who can’t make up their mind.”

Tina’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Bambi,” she said sternly, “That’s not really a fair way to describe yourself. You know that I… I have always struggled to let anybody in, to allow feelings to develop for people who may just end up leaving me. It’s… a kind of self-defense, to cut myself off before I can get hurt, I suppose. But somehow you’ve been courageous enough to open your heart to two people. It’s pretty inspiring, actually, even if some people wouldn’t understand.”

“Huh,” he breathed as he pulled out a pair of running shorts from the closet, “That’s kind of what Newt said, too.”

For a moment she looked stunned. “Really? Did you… Does he know he’s one of the people you were talking about?” Credence shook his head ruefully, before hiding in the bathroom to change into his sports gear, ducking away from her knowing eyes. 

“That’s gotta be next on the list then, Bambi!” she called after him. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Tell him! I know you can do it!”

Credence’s heart pounded madly at the thought, but he knew she was right.

He could do it. He just had to figure out what to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo!  
> Communication is scary but important. Dogs are cute. (That is basically a summary of this chapter)


	11. Mountain Pose

Despite the speed with which Credence got dressed for the gym that evening, they were still running late by the time they managed to get the door. Tina generously refrained from hurrying him as he agonized over what clothes to bring to change into after his run – clothes he was going to be wearing on his _date_. Oh, God.

He finally just grabbed his nicest shirt and slacks and impulsively stuffed a few overnight things into his bag as well. Just in case. Never hurt to be prepared, right?

As a result, they were quite a bit behind by the time they picked Queenie up from the café. She seemed in cheerful spirits, though, and didn’t mind at all, happily telling them that Tori had revealed there would be live music at the Halloween party on Saturday, some talented vintage group that all her friends were excited about. They entered the gym in a whirlwind of excited chatter, Queenie pulling Tina into an animated discussion of the final touches to go on their costumes while Credence looked anxiously toward the treadmills, spotting Graves already warming up.

“See you later! I will text you if I need anything, but I might not get back until late,” he said quickly. “I’m having dinner with Graves tonight, remember?” He had mentioned it briefly in passing, but now the reality of it seemed to be setting in, Tina’s eyes widening.

“Oh, right. You’ll… You’ll be careful, I know you will. Does he have our number, just in case? And if you need a ride, don’t hesitate to call me, no matter where you are or what time it is. If anything happens and you want to leave…”

“I know, I will,” he replied softly, “and I will make sure he has your number. But I am sure it will be fine.”

They both looked at him, obviously a mix of anxious and excited. “Have a good time, Bambi,” Queenie breathed.

He sent them a small grin, nervous and joyful. “Thanks.”

Then he was striding quickly over to Graves, who paused to pull his bag off the treadmill next to him, which he appeared to have been saving for Credence.

“Sorry I’m late,” Credence murmured shyly, watching the way Graves’ eyes warmed.

“No problem at all. I just started. Thought I’d make sure your spot didn’t get stolen.” His mouth quirked into a soft smile.

“Thanks,” Credence replied, “I’m lucky to have you guarding it for me.” He bit his lip when his words caused Graves’ eyes to darken slightly, his grin growing slightly more wolfish.

“My pleasure,” came the silky reply.

It was incredible that with just a few words, the naked desire he had felt for Graves the last time he saw him returned full force. Their run was charged with electric potential, fizzing between their bodies as they pounded along the five miles, their legs matched in pace. Something was building, raw and powerful, making Credence feel like his blood was boiling with adrenaline and his lungs had expanded to twice their size and could barely fit in his chest. 

Afterward, they stretched together by the wall, talking easily about running routes but communicating something else entirely through the brush of Graves’ hand against Credence’s elbow and the way Credence steadied himself boldly against Graves’ chest when he stood on one foot to stretch his quadriceps.

In the locker room, the tension grew. Not only was this Credence’s first time using the gym showers, but the last time they had been in here he and Graves had made out like teenagers in one of the stalls, which meant that the entire time he was scrubbing the sweat off himself he was picturing Graves in there with him, the strength of his arms around him and the taste of his mouth.

He somehow managed to dry off and pull his good pair of black slacks on without falling over onto the dubious cleanliness of the tile floor, tugging on one of his only button-up shirts, made of a soft grey material that clung to his damp skin uncomfortably. But he was too excited to care. When he emerged from the shower stall to pull on his socks and shoes, Graves was already perfectly put together and looking edible in his trousers and shirtsleeves, carefully buttoning the cuffs at his wrists. The rest of his suit appeared to still be packed away in a garment bag hanging from the locker behind him.

“Uhm… Is this a shirt-tucked-in or an untucked sort of place we are going?” Credence asked slightly breathlessly, attempting to rummage in his bag for a comb without dropping anything on the floor.

Graves’ eyes had widened at the sight of him in nicer clothes than usual, his lips parting in surprise. “I suppose it is a bit more formal than where we went last time, but not so stuffy that you can’t still be casual if you would be more comfortable that way. It’s up to you,” he said carefully. All the same, Graves himself had his shirt tucked in, and it seemed the right thing to do to match him. Credence carefully pushed the tails of his shirt into the waistband of his pants, noting the way Graves’ eyes seemed unable to look away from the pull of fabric over his torso and hips as he situated his shirt to his liking.

“I’m afraid my hair will still be a bit drippy,” Credence said regretfully, trying his best to wring out some of the moisture before dragging a comb through it and tying it back into a smooth ponytail. Graves had slung his suit jacket on now, pulling on his elegant dark overcoat on top.

He stepped a bit closer, reaching out to help Credence into his wool coat. “Doesn’t matter,” he said very softly, “Baby, you always look amazing.” Credence could feel his cheeks flaming and a helpless smile spreading across his face. Graves gently brushed a wet strand of hair off his neck, and Credence was suddenly aware how close they were standing, getting a bit lost in the warmth of Graves’ eyes. “You ready?” the man murmured, his fingertips still sliding over the nape of Credence’s neck.

“Uh huh,” he managed dazedly, blinking in pleased surprise when Graves’ warm hand found his waist and stayed there as the two of them made their way out of the locker rooms, past the rows of ellipticals and the knowing looks of the two chatty women on the treadmills, and out into the darkened parking lot.

“Was that alright?” Graves asked quietly as they wound their way toward the car. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked if you like my arm around you in public. Some people prefer to keep that private, and I would understand if you do too.”

In answer, Credence interlaced his fingers with the hand Graves had on his waist and pulled it tighter around him, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “No, I like it,” he whispered.

“Oh,” Graves rumbled happily. They were at the car, but he was too busy kissing Credence’s cheek and temple to unlock it yet. “Me too. I love holding on to you,” he murmured against his ear. “And kissing? What are your thoughts on doing that in public? I guess we already have, but what about at the restaurant?”

“Mmm,” hummed Credence, turning to catch the man’s lips with his own for a lingering press. “I really like kissing you,” he whispered honestly, “but I also don’t like being the center of attention in a crowd. If there’s a roomful of people that seem like they are watching us, I probably won’t be able to enjoy it. I guess it depends if the people in the restaurant are staring or not, so I’m not sure yet.”

Graves’ warm hand cupped his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I can understand that,” the man said gently. “How about I follow your lead any time we’re in public? You’ll decide when and how often.”

“Okay,” Credence said, feeling slightly floaty as he twined his arms around Graves’ neck. “Thank you.” He couldn’t resist kissing the man again, a little deeper this time, and by the time they separated they were panting.

“Baby,” Graves purred, rubbing a hand down his back, “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just happy I get to kiss you.” Their breath mingled between them as Graves wrapped his arms a little tighter around Credence’s waist. There was a faint burst of music as the doors to the gym opened on the other side of the parking lot and a group of people trailed out, lugging their workout gear and heading toward their cars. Credence’s assessing eyes snapped over in their direction before he leaned in for one last impulsive lingering kiss, enjoying the feel of the slight roughness on Graves’ jaw with his thumb.

When he pulled back, the man was smiling, a wordless question in his eyes as he glanced toward the people getting into their cars. “They weren’t really looking, it’s dark, and I feel safe here,” explained Credence softly, still stroking his jaw and neck, “And, most importantly, they weren’t my cousins. If they show up, you can pretty much guarantee I’m no longer in the mood. Not that they wouldn’t be happy for us, but it is just too weird and awkward. They’re almost like my parents or older siblings at this point.” 

Graves chuckled softly. “Noted. No kissing in front of family.” He let Credence go so that they could each slide into their side of the car. “There was a time I would’ve felt the same, but I don’t have any family around here now. My parents are in Florida and don’t care to be interrupted much, and I haven’t so much as spoken on the phone to my brother in years.”

Credence watched the man’s profile as he pulled the car out of the lot, taking in the slight tightness around his eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said finally, unsure what the underlying history was.

“Oh, don’t worry. My parents and I have an arrangement of postcards and phone calls that suits us well enough. And my brother… He’s hardly a loss. We were never very loving with each other as boys, just competitive and stupidly overconfident together. And then we grew up.” His knuckles were tight around the steering wheel as he guided them through the city. “And we each became somewhat of an asshole. I don’t even know how Sera put up with us in our early twenties, we were insufferable. Twin idiots. I had a lot of dumb pomposity and misplaced righteousness, and he was always sure his ideas were the best and everyone else was incompetent.” Graves sighed. “But we were also very smart and very keen on growing our careers, and our success kept us together for a long while, even though we were unbalanced and fighting all the time.”

“And then…” Credence whispered, “you had a falling out?” He was picturing the way Ma and her sister used to scream at each other, until finally she sliced the family tie between them completely. As if she could erase it from existence through spite and force of will.

Graves grimaced. “More like a kicking out. Things got so bad that we couldn’t work together anymore, and he crossed several lines, so Sera booted him from the company, and I helped her do it. I’m sure he’s never forgiven us. He’s not the sort of man to let things go. Probably still stewing in anger, wherever he is now. Last I heard from him was a deeply sarcastic postcard from Switzerland.”

Credence could remember the way Ma had ranted about her sister long after they had stopped seeing each other, her eyes wild and furious but her voice ultimately just sounding sad. Of course, her words had been awful and prejudiced and hateful, but underneath it all maybe there was a bit of genuine emotion. It was hard to say with Ma. “Family is complicated,” he said simply. “They’re in the best position to hurt you, and yet you can’t help but cling to them a little bit even after they do. Just out of instinct, I guess.”

The car paused at a red light and Graves looked over at Credence, his face shadowed. “I guess so.” He put a hand on Credence’s knee, very lightly. “There you go, being so wise again.” His voice was thick with something indecipherable and melancholic. “You’ve lived a lot already, haven’t you? To understand the darker side of people so well.”

Credence shrugged, his tongue now feeling a bit stuck, and Graves let the question go, squeezing his knee before returning his attention to the road. 

The restaurant was Italian, and far more fancy than anywhere Credence had stepped foot in his entire life. He pressed close to Graves as they entered, eyes widening at the dim, glittering interior and the elegantly dressed servers carrying steaming plates of delicious-looking food. A group of guests was talking with the hostess, so they waited their turn in the entryway, Graves winding an arm around Credence’s waist and tucking him neatly against his side.

“This is where Sera and I take clients we are hoping to impress,” the man murmured into his ear. “The food is incredible.”

“Oh?” Credence replied, feeling bold, “And are you hoping to impress me?”

Graves squeezed his waist a little tighter, nuzzling against his cheek. “Very much so. You’ve uncovered my strategy.”

Carefully, Credence smoothed a hand down Graves’ arm, grinning. “You know you don’t have to, right? I mean, this is all very nice, but you already won me over. I was fully impressed that first day we met. Just so you know.” He kissed the man very softly on the lips.

“Really?” Graves said quietly, his eyes genuinely surprised. “You… you were interested already that first day?” He was grinning now, delighted. “I couldn’t tell for sure if you even noticed me trying to flirt with you, actually. I have to admit I was rusty at it, but even so I wasn’t expecting you to be so adorably oblivious for so long.”

“Oh!” Credence could feel himself blushing. “I… Um, I’m sorry, I just don’t think anybody’s flirted with me before. I don’t… I just don’t have that, uh, emotional vocabulary yet. That’s what Juliet would say. And then she usually reassures me that it will fill itself in with time and experience.”

Graves looked stunned. “Really? Nobody’s flirted with you, ever? I find that hard to believe, baby. You’re irresistible in every possible way. Maybe you just didn’t realize,” he chuckled, squeezing him a bit tighter.

As flattering as that statement was, it made Credence grimace slightly. Even if he was apparently irresistible now, it didn’t change the fact that most of his teenage and adult life thus far he had felt like a shell of a person, underfed and uncared for and ugly inside and out, preaching unwilling words to people who had no desire to hear them. He’d had plenty of experience with disgust and rejection, but none with being desirable. Sure, when he was fifteen, a girl at school had inexplicably pulled him into an empty classroom one day and asked plainly if she could kiss him, but Credence had been so afraid of what Ma would do if she found out that he ran away, crashing into a group of her friends who were waiting outside. Turned out it had been a dare. It had never even occurred to him until years later to wonder if his reaction might have been different if it had been a boy. 

There was never any other interest. Who in their right mind would approach the weird skinny kid with the awful haircut and the ragged old-fashioned clothes who moved through life like a zombie and who always read the bible during reading period? Every single day, without fail, he had buried himself deeper within himself, until it almost seemed like nothing existed inside the husk of his body but a swirling black miasma, blocking out the rest of the world in self-defense. His little sisters had been the only bright spot in a dark world growing steadily grimmer.

He opened his mouth to try to uncomfortably explain to Graves just how little his present self resembled the past, but he couldn’t seem to find the words, watching the man’s eyes cloud with confusion as Credence helplessly shook his head.

“No?” he said softly. “Alright, you know your life better than I do.” His hand rubbed gently up Credence’s back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have joked about that. I can tell I upset you.” 

“It’s okay,” Credence whispered automatically, although he was having trouble meeting Graves’ eyes, his hand still tangled in the man’s soft scarf. They were at the front of the line now, the group ahead of them having been seated after some sort of extended negotiation to add an extra table to their party.

“Table for two? Our wait is currently forty five minutes unless you have a reservation.” The hostess’ cheerful voice broke through the tension, Graves giving Credence one last concerned look before turning to speak to her.

“We do. 7pm, under Graves,” he said smoothly, his voice a little tight. He kept a protective arm around Credence as she led them to their table, only letting go when they had to squeeze single file past another group of diners coming the other way, his hand still resting lightly on Credence’s waist from behind.

Their table was tucked off to the side in a large space lit by a series of teardrop-shaped chandeliers, full of other couples and families illuminated by pools of warm light. Credence slid out of his coat and stared up at the ornate tile ceiling, a little in awe of the delicate detail in the patterning. It reminded him of a cathedral he’d seen in a picture in his history textbook in high school. Thinking Ma would like it, he had brought it home to show her the beautiful flourishes and carved angels.

 _Idolatry_ , she had sniffed, _makes a mockery of true faith. We need no self-indulgent artifice to look at to be true to God, do we, Credence? You tell your teacher that she ought to find a new textbook._

A few months after that she pulled him out of school entirely.

“Credence.” Graves’ soft voice shook him out of his reminiscing. He had removed his coat and scarf and was now holding out Credence’s chair for him.

He couldn’t help the fond smile that spread across his face at that. “Oh, thank you,” he murmured, taking a seat while the unfamiliar fluttery feeling of being waited on squirmed through his chest. “Mrs. Esposito was right,” he mused as Graves took his own seat. “She told me she could tell you were a gentleman, very chivalrous and polite. And she said I shouldn’t let you slip away.”

Graves looked up at him in surprise. “Your landlady said that? I guess I made a good impression, then. I’m glad.” He paused, watching Credence carefully and reaching over to brush his fingers lightly over the back of his hand. “But I really only care what you think, Credence. I… Did I say something terribly insensitive without meaning to, just now? I don’t want to press you about your past, but I also want to make sure I understand where the boundaries are.” 

Credence bit his lip. They were surrounded by the din of the other guests talking, still on the edge between private and exposed. “You couldn’t have known,” he said quietly. “It’s… You didn’t say anything wrong, I just have a lot of… I’ve got some bad memories. They’re bound to get stirred up sometimes, it’s not your fault. If I seem to withdraw, it’s not because I don’t want to talk to you, I’m just processing for a minute. I…” He dared a glance in Graves’ direction. “I will tell you more about them, sometime, if you want. Just, not here. When… when we’re alone.”

Graves seemed relieved, squeezing Credence’s hand. “I’d be glad to know anything you’re willing to tell me.”

Then the smiling waiter was approaching and they began the confusing process of ordering from the menu, which didn’t have any dishes as simple as lasagna or spaghetti for Credence to cling to for familiarity. He once again asked Graves to order for him, and he ended up with some sort of delicious seafood soup to start followed by seasonal pumpkin ravioli.

“Perfect for Halloween!” he enthused, when Graves explained what the description of the dish translated to. The man gave him a fond smile and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. The food was incredible, fresh and savory, though Credence worried that the quality of it was wasted on him. He’d liked the Thai place just as much, and surely for the frighteningly high prices on the menu he ought to be enjoying this far more in comparison. Not that there was anything lacking – far from it. The meal was delicious and they spent the evening in comfortable conversation about various subjects, coming around surprisingly to pets.

“I have a cat,” Graves admitted, to Credence’s delight. Of course, he knew this already from Newt, but he was excited to hear it from the man himself. “She’s very cranky, and Sera likes to say we are two halves of the same soul.”

Credence beamed. “Oh, but cats are such softies deep down. She acts cranky but I bet she’s got a soft spot for you, right?”

Graves grinned wryly. “Yes, I suppose so. As much as she has a soft spot for anyone. She doesn’t hiss at me when I pet her anymore, which is a real sign of affection from Muriel.” Credence raised an eyebrow, and Graves hurriedly clarified, “She came with the name, I got her a few months ago. Haven’t come up with anything else that she approves of yet.”

Credence giggled. “I would imagine she’s attached to it, then. She sounds very stubborn.”

“Yes,” Graves sighed, “another trait Sera likes to say we have in common.”

“Well, I would like to meet her,” Credence said decisively, “even if she does hiss at me. Somehow I managed to charm Newt’s cat, so maybe I can get Muriel to warm up to me too.”

“Newt’s cat, huh?” Graves said slowly. “You’ve visited his place?”

“I… yes, after we dropped him off last night I stuck around. To help him care for Pickett. His dog. Well, actually, to keep his other dogs occupied while Newt was looking after Pickett.”

Graves’ brow relaxed. “Oh, yes, of course. The one who was sick. Is he feeling any better?”

“Yes! I believe so.” Credence fumbled with his phone for a moment. “I have a… Oh, where did it go… There, that’s Pickett. He’s a rescue, like the rest of them. Isn’t he adorable?”

Gratifyingly, Graves’ face melted a little at the photo of Pickett’s narrow pointy face and wide guileless eyes. “Well, yes, he certainly is. How many dogs does Newt have?”

“Four!” Credence lit up as he explained. “Dougal is this big silver dog, probably part husky, and Frank looks like some sort of retriever mix, and then Bandit is an adorable short-legged little rascal who likes to chew on everything. Then there’s also Morgana, the cat.” He paused, grinning at the memory of all of the pets piled on the couch with him. “I think that’s probably the maximum Newt could fit in his apartment. But somehow he keeps them all under control, because he treats them so well and they love him completely. They really listen to him when he wants them to, like when they’re out for a walk and he needs them to behave.”

“That is impressive,” Graves said softly, watching with an unreadable expression as Credence let out a dreamy sigh.

Ah. Right. Maybe Credence ought not to be talking so enthusiastically about someone else while out on a date with Graves. His heart sank at the reminder that he needed to find a way to explain about his feelings for both of them tonight. But it didn’t seem right to discuss it here in the restaurant.

“Yes, I… He’s an exemplary pet owner.” Credence bit his lip. “If we had more space in our apartment, I’d want to try owning an animal too. I love animals. But, as it is, the fact I’m living there is already kind of putting us over our occupancy limit. Luckily Mrs. Esposito was willing to let Tina move me in anyway. I’m not even sure what she had to promise her in exchange. But we can’t have any pets, even if we did have room, the rules of our apartment complex are pretty strict.”

They were finished with their food now, and Graves had taken his hand again, leaning in close. “Well, would you like to meet my cat now? We could get dessert to go and eat it at my place, if you wanted. No other expectations, I promise.”

Credence startled himself a little with the vehemence of his, “Yes, please.” More than anything, he wanted to have the chance to talk to Graves in private, even though the idea of what he had to confess filled him with no small portion of dread.

Arrangements were made rapidly with the waiter, and before Credence knew it he was pulling on his coat again and somehow their bill had already been paid. “Graves… I… I was going to offer to cover the tip at least,” Credence stammered, feeling slightly uncomfortable at once again eating on someone else’s dime.

“Baby,” the man murmured, tugging him close, “It’s my pleasure to treat you, it makes me happy. You don’t need to worry about the money, I can afford it. It’s just part of who I am, wanting to do things for you.” He cupped Credence’s face in his hand. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he replied softly, unable to resist leaning in for a brief kiss. They slipped out of the restaurant into the chilly night air, Credence settling into the car with the carton of tiramisu in his lap. Graves’ house was in the opposite direction of Credence’s apartment, winding further from the heart of the city into an increasingly nice neighborhood of stately houses with more and more breathtaking views of the water. Credence watched with wide eyes as he pulled into a parking spot on a hill near a small city park facing out over a short bluff, the deep darkness of the Sound below with twinkling ship lights glittering in the night.

“It’s beautiful,” Credence breathed reverently, clutching the take-out box a little tighter as the wind whipped at his coat, drawn irresistibly to the edge of the bluff and leaning against the fence. A distant cluster of more lights on the other side of the water dimly denoted the shape of the island that made up the far shore, nothing in between but deep black and the rushing sound of the wind and the waves.

Graves’ arms wrapped around him from behind, and he realized he was shivering. “Quite lovely, yes. You can see the mountains in the daylight, all spread out in a line to the west.” He kissed Credence’s cold cheek. “But I would rather look at you any day, if it isn’t too sappy of me to say so.”

Credence smiled bashfully and turned in his arms, burrowing between the open halves of his overcoat and kissing him sweetly, still chilly despite the added warmth of his body heat. Graves pulled him closer, folding his soft scarf around both of their necks, before deepening the kiss, the inside of his mouth fiery hot in contrast to the crisply cold air. Eventually, they turned and meandered giddily up the block, Graves still stealing kisses every few steps and Credence still half-buried in his coat. When they managed to stagger up the walkway to a tidy yard and a somber grey house, Credence tucked his nose against Graves’ cheek and watched him unlock the door, feeling a bit like he was dreaming.

The house was warm and smelled faintly of toast and coffee, likely from Graves’ breakfast that morning, and as Credence was pulling off his coat and trying to rub heat back into his fingers a dark blur darted out of the hallway and leapt up on the chair nearest to him.

“Ah! There she is,” he said eagerly, examining the tiny black cat on the arm of the chair who was watching him with slightly wet yellow eyes, her battered ears flattened back and her tail swishing in annoyance. “Yes, I suppose I’m an intruder. You’re not sure how you feel about that yet, I can see that.”

The cat gave a croaky little yowl and then a hiss, her tail lashing harder.

“Now, Muriel,” Graves said gently, reaching over carefully to pet her. To Credence’s absolute surprise, she allowed it easily, still watching him petulantly while she allowed Graves to scratch down her spine. “I know your allergies are acting up, but that’s no excuse for being rude. She’s nearly always oozing a bit,” he explained to Credence. “The vet said it’s a sensitivity to irritants in the air. I’m trying to figure out if swapping out some of my cleaners will help, but apparently she was like this in the shelter too.” He looked a little helpless and worried. “I’ve never actually had a pet before, just sort of impulsively decided my house was too empty these days and I thought maybe I’d get someone low maintenance. I didn’t expect to see her there looking so miserable. She was already almost nine years old when she got rescued, so she’d been there a while without anybody showing any interest in an older cat. It’s… a bit terrifying, to feel responsible for making sure she’s alright.”

Tentatively, Credence held out a hand and let the cat sniff his fingers, her slender tail swishing once more but her ears no longer flattened back. “I can imagine. I was so nervous just watching the dogs for a few minutes, worried something would happen to one of them on my watch. But it seems like you are doing just fine.” Muriel appeared to have finished sniffing Credence’s hand and turned away in disinterest, slipping under the coffee table to stare up at him balefully from the shadows. Credence grinned. “Uh huh. She’s definitely going to be tricky to win over. But I am determined. I think she must be much happier here than she was at the shelter. It’s wonderful that you adopted her,” he said, beaming at Graves.

The man was watching him in bemused delight. “Nobody could resist you for long, Credence. Not even my cat,” he said silkily, gathering Credence to him for a soft kiss. “You want some dessert?”

At Credence’s nod, he guided them both into the kitchen and got out two forks to dig into the tiramisu while Credence looked around in amazement at the gleaming double-oven and the spotless marble island. “Wow,” he breathed, “do you bake? This is incredible.”

Graves looked back over his shoulder slightly sheepishly. “Will you think less of me if I say that I don’t use this kitchen nearly often enough? The previous owner must have been a real cook, I think, but I’m afraid I often work late and end up eating out.” He turned, forks in hand, looking determined. “But one of these days I will cook you dinner in here, I promise. I am sure I can figure out what all those directions mean.”

He looked so adorably serious that Credence struggled to hide his grin. “Alright. Or I could come over and cook dinner in your kitchen, and you could be my assistant. Maybe that would be a good way to start.”

The delighted relief in the look Graves gave him was enough to pull forth a giggle, which devolved into more kissing, and by the time they settled on the living room couch to actually eat the tiramisu they were both a bit flushed and panting.

“So,” Graves said, his voice low and velvety, “Would it be presumptuous of me to infer that you are enjoying this, and you’d like to continue our… whatever you’d like this to be?”

“No, not presumptuous at all,” Credence said, his heart pounding. “I’ve… never felt like this before. I… being with you is incredible. It is still overwhelming but I never want it to stop. I’m… well, there are still some things I am figuring out, but I want to continue, if you do.”

“Oh, you can be assured that I do,” Graves said heatedly.

Credence felt like he was freezing and melting at the same time. Graves was looking at him with such affection and desire, such trust, that he hated the idea of saying anything that might ruin that. But this couldn’t go any further without him being completely honest.

“Well… I am glad to hear that, but I… I need to tell you something, and… I will understand if it… Well, I know there is a chance that might change the way you feel.” He swallowed hard, nervously fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt while Graves furrowed his brow.

“Something about the past?” he asked softly. “Sweetheart, I doubt it will change my mind one bit.”

“No,” Credence said firmly, “although if you really would like to know about that, we can tackle that barrel of issues later on. I will tell you anything you want to know,” he added bravely. “But this is about the present.”

“Alright,” Graves said calmly, sliding his arm along the back of the couch, “lay it on me.”

Credence stared into his eyes for a moment, memorizing the way he looked now, open and happy and accepting. Just in case he didn’t get to see this again.

“I…” he began croakily, then cleared his throat. “As you have guessed, I have never been in a relationship before. But I want to be. I have feelings for you… that are… I mean, strong feelings. I…” He took a shaky breath. “The only problem is, I don’t think I’d be a good boyfriend because I also have equally strong feelings for someone else right now and I can’t seem to stop thinking about either one of you,” he forced out in a rush. “I know that’s not supposed to happen, and I am so sorry that I’ve selfishly latched on to both of you at once, but I want to be honest and I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at his hands twisting in his lap before he felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder and Graves’ voice broke the silence. “Credence… it’s Newt, isn’t it?”

His head shot up, taking in the heartbreakingly gentle resignation in Graves’ eyes. “Yes,” he admitted breathlessly, “I… I really like him. But, Graves, I really like you too, I…”

“Credence, sweetheart, it’s alright.” Graves huffed. “It would be hypocritical of me to be upset, considering I was attracted to him too at first.”

Credence watched him carefully. “Only at first?” he asked, “You aren’t anymore?”

Graves’ eyes widened. “Well, I… I suppose I will always find him physically attractive, but he is still a beautiful stranger. I _know_ you, or at least I am starting to, inside and out, and now that we’ve gotten closer I would never be able to stop feeling… well, you must know how I feel about you. Sure, who knows, maybe if I hadn’t met you that first day I would’ve tried to get to know Newt better, but I’m quite glad of the way things turned out.”

He rubbed a soothing hand down Credence’s arm, but his words had the opposite of their intended effect. “Oh,” Credence said miserably. “I… I really did get in the way then. If I hadn’t been there, you both could’ve been happy.”

“What?” Graves said incredulously, “Baby, what are you talking about?”

“He… He likes you. A lot,” Credence croaked. 

Graves tilted his head, brow furrowed. “Newt? You mean… Are you sure?”

Credence nodded firmly. “He’s been infatuated with you since you adopted Muriel from the shelter where he works.” Oh, no, he really ought not to be spilling Newt’s secrets like this.

Graves seemed utterly gobsmacked, at a loss for words. “But…”

Credence, however, found himself unable to stop the words tumbling out. “He said you probably never noticed him because he was too shy to come talk to you. But he was attracted to you, and he liked the way you were so gentle with her. Apparently, every time you came in for a checkup he would try and catch a glimpse of you from the stock room where he was cleaning equipment.” He huffed. “Kind of like the way I snuck up into the storage hallway next to the yoga studio before I joined the class. Just to stare at him.” He blinked. “I think Newt and I are kind of alike.”

“Holy shit,” Graves breathed. “I had no idea he… I just had no idea.”

Credence nodded miserably. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Kinda like how he had no idea I started the class just to be closer to him. But there was no way he was ever going to notice me, especially next to you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you that first day, and then later he was trying to flirt with you but he backed off pretty quick because he thought we were a couple and he’s far too good a person to ever try and get in the middle of something like that.”

“Huh.” There was something a little bit wild and bewildered in Graves’ eyes.

“The funny thing is, at that point I still wasn’t aware there was anything for him to get in the middle of. I really didn’t figure out you were flirting with me until you told me I looked hot in the picture of my costume. I’m pretty ridiculous, huh?” Credence fiddled with the button on the wrist of his shirt.

“I’m going to have to agree that this whole thing is ridiculous, but not you. You are just fine. It’s not really up to you who you are attracted to, after all,” Graves finally managed, still looking a bit stunned. He propped his elbow on the back of the couch and ran a palm over his jaw. “So… in your estimation, we’ve ended up one of those clichéd romantic triangles, right? He wants me, I want you, you want him?”

Credence ached a little at how well he was taking this. “Well, kind of,” he said breathlessly, “Except I really do want you too. And not just as some sort of second choice, I swear. I may have seen him first, but… I have feelings for both of you… I… You’re completely different from each other, and you both make me feel… You… you support me in different ways. There really is no comparison. I just want you both.”

Graves was watching him speculatively, reaching out to take Credence’s hand. “Both. Not one or the other. Are you sure? I would understand, you know. He’s… well, of course, he’s very attractive. And it sounds like you have a lot in common, the animals, the modeling, the…” He sighed heavily. “The age thing. I’m… I’m aware he’s closer in age to you, and I’m not getting any younger. He’s probably a more appealing and more logical-”

“No!” Credence interrupted firmly, “I don’t care about age. And anyway, you aren’t old.”

Graves looked a bit startled by the vehemence of his outburst but carried on. “Alright, thanks for saying so. But are you sure you aren’t trying to convince yourself to stay committed to me out of something other than desire? I don’t know, loyalty, friendship, gratitude, _mmpf!_ ”

Credence had promptly planted himself in Graves’ lap and kissed the surprise off his face. “I must be doing something wrong,” he breathed, “if this feels like gratitude to you. I think about you all the time, I…” He gathered his courage. “I fantasize about you, in bed. I… I think about what it would be like to do… do more, with you.”

“Do you?” It was less of a question and more of a purring demand, all silken lust. Graves was slightly breathless, staring up at Credence like he’d never seen anything quite like him before. “Really? Tell me.”

Although he could feel himself blushing hot, he could also feel a low thrum of aroused excitement in his belly, making him squirm a little on Graves’ lap. “I… well, I imagined on Tuesday what it would’ve been like to… to suck you off, if that shower had been less grimy.”

“Oh, holy fuck,” Graves whispered, his hands clutching tightly to Credence’s hips.

“Yep, that’s about what I imagined you saying when your cock was in my mouth,” he added, slightly hysterically.

“Credence! Oh my fucking God, that’s so hot.” Graves’ pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed.

He nodded. “Yeah, you said that too.”

Graves laughed, bright and joyful. “What else did you think about?” He wrapped his arms tighter around Credence’s waist, pulling him in close as he looked up at him in awe. “Please, baby, will you tell me?”

Credence kissed him, lingering and open-mouthed, gathering courage. “Well. I imagined you in the shower with me at home too. Um. Fingering me. Both of you.”

“Both of us?” Graves’ gaze sharpened. “Credence, do you mean you like the idea of both of us with you at the same time? Not just dating us separately on different days or something?”

Credence tilted his head, confused. “I mean, yeah. I want you both all the time. Ever since that first day, when I saw Newt checking you out, I started imagining the two of you together. It was kind of like hot jealous torture at first, until I thought about what it would be like if I was allowed to join you.”

“Baby,” Graves breathed, “You’re incredible. That’s… We can work with that. Most definitely.” Mystified, Credence waited for him to elaborate. “Here I thought you meant you wanted two different relationships, and I was going to have to content myself with only half of your time. But it sounds more like you want one relationship between three people. If Newt is interested, that is.”

“You…” Credence was a bit stuck on the fact that Graves still seemed to be intent on dating him either way. “You really don’t mind?”

“Surprisingly, I don’t. I think I would be fine with that,” the man said slowly. “I will admit to having some jealousy going on here at the moment, but I think I can resolve that. It’s not like this is a surprise. I had some time to come around to the idea that you were into Newt after I saw the way he made you blush.” Graves kissed his cheek. “He’s a good man, and I was prepared for the possibility that I was going to lose you to him completely. As long as I get your affection too, I am quite happy. And I would welcome the chance to get to know the side of Newt that has enraptured you so much already.” Graves shrugged. “And he is hot as _fuck_.”

Credence needed a moment to process this, shock and amazement vibrating against the walls of his skull. “Remind me again, how are you so wonderful?” he asked slowly, feeling a bit of déjà vu.

“Oh, baby, you know what I’m gonna say. I’m really not, just selfish. I’m greedy. I want every bit of you, and since part of you wants Newt, I want him too. For you.” Graves cupped his face in both hands, amber eyes dark. “I think we could do it, you know. Both of us, trying our best to seduce Newt? I don’t think he’d be able to resist. He seems very open-minded, don’t you think? Think of the things we could try. Mmm, and we know that he is very bendy.” Graves’ voice was velvety rich and slightly gravely and Credence whimpered slightly at the wonderful low feeling of arousal fluttering in his belly. “What, baby? You like that idea? What do you think?”

In answer, Credence bit his lip and carefully flexed his thighs, pressing their groins together. “Yes please,” he breathed, and Graves groaned, sliding one hand down to just brush against the top of Credence’s ass. “That sounds amazing.” As they kissed hungrily, Credence casually slid the man’s hand further down with one of his own, guiding it to cup one ass cheek tightly. Graves chuckled into the kiss, bringing the other hand down to knead the firm swell of his buttocks and making Credence squirm in pleasure.

“Sweetheart,” said that lovely low voice when they pulled apart, panting. “What would you like to do? Approach him together? You know him better than I do. Would we scare him off if we just came out and asked?”

Credence’s hips were making tiny thrusting motions in the same rhythm that Graves’ hands were luxuriously squeezing his ass. “Ah… maybe… it would be best not to overwhelm him. He’s kind of shy, actually. Mmm, that feels good. I can try broaching the subject tomorrow when I’m at his house. We’re going to do our nails together. And… shave our legs.”

Graves’ hands were dragging down his thighs now, running his palms over the soft material of his slacks and the lean muscles underneath. “Shave your legs,” he groaned, “Fuck.”

“Somehow I thought you might like that,” Credence murmured, licking into his mouth. 

Then there was no more talking for a while. At some point, deep into the kiss, Graves’ arms slid under his ass and suddenly the world shifted as he lifted Credence into the air. Credence squeaked in surprise as they moved toward the hallway. Oh wow, he was strong.

“This alright, baby?” Graves asked breathlessly, pausing. “We can still stick to kissing, if you like. I just thought we’d be more comfortable somewhere with more space.”  
Credence let out a delighted laugh, winding his arms tighter around the man’s neck. “By all means. Carry on.”

Graves snorted and bit lightly at Credence’s ear, guiding them down the hallway and into a spacious bedroom. Credence caught a glimpse of deep purple walls and some sort of soft-looking grey carpet surrounding a king bed framed in dark wood before he was being settled on his back in the fluffy white cloud of the softest duvet he had ever felt. “Ooh, your bed is so comfy,” he crowed, stretching his arms out like he was in a snow bank making an angel. It was a far cry from the lumpy fold-out couch at the apartment, which was itself already about a hundred times better than the stiff, thin old cot he’d slept on at the church. “Now you’ll never get me to leave.”

Graves was gently easing Credence’s shoes off, grinning down at him. “Fine with me.” The man crawled up onto the bed, next to Credence, looking down at him spread across the blankets. “Baby, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Any time.”

And then they were kissing, soft and slow, and true to his word Graves didn’t press for anything more, although Credence was considering asking for it anyway. They lay there, Credence’s mind at peace, slowly exploring each other like they had all the time in the world, his heart light and overflowing with happiness.

Now they just needed to find a way to ask Newt to join them, and his joy would be complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You go, Credence. Go after what you want.  
> :D
> 
> They're finally getting closer to working this out. But we got several more chapters to go before it's all fully resolved (because I wrote a lot, y'all. A loooot). 
> 
> Luckily, in the meantime, there's some smut in the next chapter. I won't leave you hanging, it'll be up in the next hour. Just gotta do one last check for rebellious commas.


	12. Plank Pose

Credence felt like an overfull balloon, inflated with happiness. There was an anxious, overstuffed fluttering joy in his chest and a distinctly surreal feeling to the text he was about to send.

_I think I’m staying the night. I’ve got what I need for work tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’m sure about this. He’s not pressuring me, he’s wonderful._

He was currently in Graves’ obscenely luxurious bathroom while the man himself waited patiently for him on the massive bed outside. After quite a lot of heated kissing earlier, things had eased back into relaxed chatting and comfortable snuggling, which only had halted because all the water he’d drunk at dinner had forced Credence to slip away to relieve himself.

Credence slid his phone back into his pocket and splashed some water on his face, staring at his own dark eyes in the mirror. “Here we go,” he whispered. “No big deal. Just see what happens.” When he re-emerged from the bathroom, the bright joy in Graves’ smile was enough to make his heart feel like bursting. Credence happily leapt up on the bed and draped himself once more all over Graves’ body, unable to resist tucking a thigh between the man’s legs while he shyly nuzzled against his neck.

There were more soft kisses, followed by a good deal of giggling and shy groping. Credence bashfully pulled Graves’ hand back to his ass while he bit his lip and pressed his crotch against the man’s hip, still half on top of him and contentedly sucking kisses up his neck. 

“That feel good, baby?” Graves’ voice rumbled under his lips, the grip of his hands encouraging Credence to grind his pelvis against one muscular thigh.

“Mmm,” Credence murmured, shivering a little at just how good it was. To be so close, so safe, lost in the pleasure of body heat and comfort and skin. “Yeah.” 

Some indeterminate amount of time later, they surfaced from what had become a slightly desperate snog, the intensity changing in pitch as both of them started to run hotter. Credence had ended up fully on top of Graves, straddling his hips, barely able to form coherent thoughts beyond the slide of his tongue and the hot, thick bulge in the man’s pants pressing against his own insistent desire. 

He plucked at Graves’ shirt buttons as he tried to catch his breath to form words. “Do… Can I… Do you want to?”

“Sweetheart,” he panted in reply, “Whatever it is you’re picturing, I’m gonna go with _yes_.”

Credence beamed at him, his heart hammering. This was really happening. He sat back up a little so he could get Graves’ shirt unbuttoned fully, sliding his fingertips in wonder over the smooth skin and dark hair. When Graves surged upright to tug his shirt the rest of the way off, Credence got to watch his abdominals contract under his hand, strong and hard. He got a little lost in the broad planes of the man’s pectorals next, exploring them with his palms and feeling the steady pound of his heart thrumming underneath. His hands slid along of their own accord, up and over his muscular shoulders to stroke down the thickness of his biceps to the vulnerability of his inner elbows, running fingertips over the blue veins in the underside of his forearms gathering delicately at his wrists.

Throughout his careful study, Graves remained patiently docile, letting Credence turn his wrists to stroke over the hair on the tops of his forearms, his attention then wandering back up to his collarbones, which he carefully bent to kiss. Credence’s mouth trailed up his throat, soft and gentle over the pounding throb of his pulse, finally nuzzling in to kiss his ear.

“I really like your body,” he whispered, feeling rather awkward about admitting this, even though the evidence of his admiration was completely obvious. The erection straining against his slacks was certainly proof enough. He could feel the pull of Graves’ smile where their cheeks pressed together, the man’s thumbs rubbing slow circles over his hips.

“That’s very gratifying to hear, baby.” Graves turned his head to kiss him sweetly. “I like yours too,” he murmured.

Credence made a questioning noise. “But you haven’t even seen… I mean, I’m really not all that, um, muscled. I don’t…”

But Graves cut him off. “Oh, baby. There are lots of different ways to be hot, and believe me, you’ve got the goods. I don’t know if you realize how sexy you are in your running shorts. I’ve had dreams about your legs, sweetheart, long and slender and wrapped around me.” He slid a hand over Credence’s thigh, making him shiver. “That doesn’t mean you have to get naked, though. You can be seductive wearing clothes too. You are perfect, in absolutely anything. I would find you completely delectable bundled up in coats, or stripped down to nothing, and everything in between. This outfit tonight, I have to admit, is particularly devastating.” He reached up to straighten the collar of Credence’s nice shirt, somewhat rumpled now by their activity.

“Really?” Credence said, soft and eager.

“Oh yes,” Graves purred, “The slacks, and the sleek little ponytail… I apparently have a kink for you in office wear, which is surprising because I am otherwise heartily sick of business casual. Reminds me too much of work. But on you… Well, I think maybe it is just a kink for you, actually. In anything.”

Credence felt a bit smug, desire burning hot in his chest. “I will keep that in mind,” he said playfully. The heat of his contentment and affection was enough to block out his insecurities for the moment, and he felt a bit like he was flying. “For now, though,” he added, “would you be terribly disappointed if I took it off?”

Speechless and turned on was a good look on Graves. “I… You mean…”

“I wouldn’t want my outfit to get wrinkled,” Credence said slyly, dragging possessive fingertips over Graves’ muscular chest. “Especially since you like it so much. And anyway, this would be awfully constricting to sleep in.” He bent to kiss the man, filthy and wet. “The thing is,” he whispered, “I’m kind of lazy. Could you help me undress?”

The sound Graves made could probably be classified as a growl as he deepened the kiss and rolled them over to pin Credence playfully half-under him, falling in a heap on the bed. “I like a man who knows how to ask for what he wants,” Graves purred, kissing down Credence’s neck. His fingers found the buttons on the grey shirt and undid them one by one, still nuzzling his throat. The room was warm, but it still made Credence shiver slightly when his shirt fell open completely, Graves pressing lingering kisses to his pulse point while he ran a gentle hand down the bare skin of his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “so beautiful.” He bent his head to kiss Credence’s sternum, looking up at him carefully. “Is this okay?” At Credence’s eager nod, warm lips began to explore his chest, trailing open-mouthed kisses down to the ticklish skin of his stomach before returning to lick over his nipples. Graves made a noise of satisfaction when Credence gasped and arched his back into the sensation, moaning as Graves added more suction, his eyes heavy-lidded. The hot, wet lash of his tongue was awakening nerve endings he hadn’t even been aware of, lighting him up with pleasure, and Credence fought to remain coherent. When Graves pulled off after lavishing both nipples with several minutes of attention, Credence was gasping, his cock straining in his slacks and his head thrown back on the pillow, hair loosened from its tie and spreading like black silk across the smooth material.

Graves’ hands slid down Credence’s arms to undo the buttons at his wrists, his eyes dark and hungry as he sat up to help Credence ease the shirt off completely, running eager hands over his pale skin, his slender waist, the ladder of his ribs, the dark hair that interrupted the creamy smoothness of his lower belly. “This too?” he asked quietly, his hand coming to rest on Credence’s belt.

It was a sad thing, how even after all this time any reminder of what used to happen when Credence’s belt was removed automatically mixed in a drop of fear into the swirling joy and arousal. “Um,” he managed, “I… Yes. Just… don’t linger over the… the belt. It makes me… I just don’t like to... Uh, here.” Quickly, he undid the buckle and unzipped his slacks, lifting his hips to push them down his thighs without removing the belt from the loops. “Will you pull them off for me?”

Graves eyes were serious and intent. “Of course, baby.” Gentle hands relieved him of his trousers, then slid his socks off one at a time. Pressing a kiss to his ankle, Graves reached up to run both hands down the length of his legs, smoothing over dark hair and lean muscle. “I love your legs, gorgeous.”

Relieved to move past the moment soured by bad memories, Credence grinned, spreading his thighs. “I believe you said something about wanting them wrapped around you, is that right?”

“Oh my God,” Graves muttered into the join of Credence’s knee. “You are too hot to be real.” He crawled up in between the vee of his inner thighs to wind Credence’s legs around his waist, bending to kiss him deeply.

“Will you take your pants off, too?” Credence breathed when they pulled apart with a wet gasp.

Graves made a slightly choked sound of anticipation. “Gladly.” The bed dipped as he got up, and then the jingle of his belt buckle and the sickly familiar slide of leather made Credence close his eyes tightly for a moment, before he heard the thud of it hitting the floor along with the soft swish of his suit pants. Credence’s lashes fluttered, opening his eyes to see Graves watching him from the end of the bed, looking devastated. “Oh,” he breathed, “I’m… shit, I’m sorry. Was that… it’s all belts, then?”

It took a moment for Credence to formulate a reply. “It’s the sound,” he managed. “I don’t…” He swallowed. “It’s a reflex. I’m…” He felt cold and vulnerable, and Graves was so far away. “Will you come back here?” The man moved so fast in response to his request that Credence almost jumped, skidding onto the bed next to Credence and then opening his arms. Credence burrowed his face gratefully into Graves’ neck, wrapping himself in his embrace and hitching a leg over his hips. “Someday I will tell you all about why, just not right now,” he said softly. “It’s a mood killer. And I was hoping to keep you in the mood for a while longer.”

It might not be possible to avoid an explanation entirely, though. Graves’ hand was now gently running through his hair, his other palm sliding over the bare skin of his back. Shit. He could feel the moment the man encountered the faint raised scars crisscrossing his spine, the motion of his hand freezing entirely.

“Credence,” Graves breathed, almost inaudible, and he discretely clutched the man a little bit tighter.

“Um.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to ruin the evening. But I… Well, you probably have questions. Or… or maybe you’ve put it together by now.”

“This…” There was something dark and angry in Graves’ voice. “These scars, and the ones on your hands. They are from a belt?”

Credence winced into the skin of Graves’ neck. “Yes.” His voice sounded very small. He cleared his throat. “Punishment. I was very… she believed in strict disciplining.”

“She?” Graves sounded horrified now, and Credence’s heart sank, his arousal shrinking rapidly. “You mean… your… your mother did this to you?”

“Adopted,” Credence rasped. “My adopted mother. She was not my real parent, in any way that counted. I… She’s actually in prison, now. I haven’t seen her in over two years, and… Juliet and I are working on airing out the ideas and fears she drilled into me so that I can move on, but I still get a little twitchy sometimes. It may happen around you,” he said honestly, “but it isn’t your fault. You…. You should probably be warned, though, I come with lots of baggage.” 

Bravely, he pulled out of his hiding place and propped himself up on one elbow to peer down at Graves anxiously. “Um. Is that… How do you feel about that?”

Graves’ eyes were solemn and a bit wild as he reached out to cup Credence’s cheek. “I feel furious on your behalf, for how you were treated,” he said lowly, “but the baggage is not a problem. I will welcome all of it, because it is part of you. I just wish I could carry it for you.”

Credence smoothed a finger gently over the furrow of Graves’ dark brow. “Oh. Thank you,” he whispered. 

“And… if you ever need… I mean, I would do absolutely anything for you, you must know that. If you ever need any legal help, or, I don’t know, anything I can provide… If there are things you need, or ways I can help you calm down… Just. If there is something I can do, tell me.” He pressed a kiss to the scarred palm of Credence’s hand, soft and sincere. The gesture felt as sacred as a vow and as holy as a prayer, much like it had when Newt had done the same.

Credence bit his lip, feeling a little hot behind the eyes, and bent to kiss him slowly. “I will,” he said quietly. “I’ll probably be asking you to hold me a lot.” He nuzzled back into the man’s warm neck. “So,” he mumbled, “Um. Maybe we should practice right now.”

Immediately, Graves’ strong arms were wrapped tight around him, squeezing him a little bit, just the way he’d told him he liked it before. “Like this, right?”

“Mm hm,” Credence breathed, snuggling close. “I think your arms are magic. I always feel safe with you,” he admitted into Graves’ collarbone.

“Sweetheart.” He could feel the vibrations of the man’s voice where their chests were pressed together, and it sent a sleek feeling of contentment through Credence’s entire body. “I’m so glad. You are always safe with me, I promise. I’ve got you.”

The words were like a soothing balm, relaxing Credence’s feeling of tension until he was draped pliant and loose across Graves’ body, sinking into him like sand on a beach.

He didn’t know how long they lay there, measuring their long even breaths against each other until they were unconsciously synched, the thrum of Graves’ heartbeat sounding steadily under Credence’s ear. At some point, sleepily, he became aware that he still needed to brush his teeth, the sweetness of the tiramisu turning stale in his mouth, but he was so comfortable that it was a long while still before he reluctantly stirred, nuzzling Graves’ cheek.

“Can I use some of your toothpaste?” he murmured. “I didn’t think to bring any.”

“Of course, baby,” was the rumbled reply. “I can show you where. In the bathroom cupboard.”

“Kay.” Credence lay boneless for another luxurious moment before forcing himself to get up, Graves following him with a contented groan. On the way to the bathroom, Credence fetched his bag and carefully folded the clothes they’d discarded on the floor, unable to leave things untidy. He blinked owlishly at the bright light in the bathroom, starkly illuminating his boxer-clad form in the mirror and making him blush. He looked instead at the sparkling tile shower, large enough for at least two people, the gleaming taps enclosed by clouded glass walls next to the racks of plush towels on the far side of the room. It was a very nice bathroom.

There was a warm hand rubbing down his back and the press of lips against his cheek, then Graves’ voice in his ear. “Wait until you see the hot tub that came with the back yard. It’s very nice. Jacuzzi jets and all.” Credence didn’t really know what that meant, but it sounded wonderful, so he nodded and Graves grinned at him in the mirror. The two of them together were a soft contrast of tan and pale, Graves’ muscular arms winding their way around Credence’s slender torso, offering a tube of toothpaste clutched in one hand.

The mundane task of brushing his teeth suddenly became far more interesting when he was side by side at the double sink watching Graves meticulously floss, then wash his face with some sort of special exfoliating scrub from a pump bottle and apply moisturizer before taking out a fancy electric toothbrush the likes of which Credence had never seen before. The thing emitted a low hum the entire time Graves was brushing, and when he was finished he plugged it in to charge and followed that up with some mouthwash. Credence spat in the sink. Gosh, he thought, suppressing a smile. He had no idea his nighttime routine would be so simple in comparison.

The man still was not done. Next there was another cream that went under his eyes and a small jar of organic lip balm that smelled enticingly of peppermint which left his lips looking glossy and absolutely kissable. No wonder they were always so soft and smooth. Credence washed out his mouth with a last few swishes of water and shyly approached Graves to rest his chin on the man’s shoulder. Graves turned his head, grinning. “Want some lip balm?”

Credence giggled softly, nodding, and they kissed slowly, enjoying the fresh minty drag of tongues and the smooth glide of the balm transferring onto Credence’s lips. When they pulled apart, Graves wiped the corner of Credence’s mouth with his thumb. “There you go, baby. Very luscious.” Then, of course, they ended up kissing again and the lip balm was forgotten entirely. 

When they meandered back to the bed, still unable to keep their hands off each other, Credence was beginning to hope that perhaps the evening would end the way he’d wanted after all. The room was dimly lit by a lamp in the corner, and the bed was soft where Credence lay on his back, Graves pressed in between his legs as they snogged deeply, mewling slightly with pleasure at the feeling of the man’s weight on top of him and the tug of his fingers through Credence’s hair. His cock, which had softened earlier when they had spoken about the past, was rapidly hardening and tenting the soft fabric of his clinging boxer briefs. When Graves slid a hand under him to cup his ass, Credence moaned loudly and pulled away from the kiss with a gasp.

“Will you touch me?” he whispered. “I want…”

“Baby,” Graves purred, “Yes, tell me. Anything you want.” He kissed him again, a soft brush of lips. 

His heart hammering, Credence reached down and cupped the bulge in his underwear, whimpering when he slid the elastic waistband down and it dragged against the sensitive length of his prick, a little staggered by his own daring. Graves gave him room to maneuver and in another second the underwear went sailing over the side of the bed and he was naked. He was _naked_ , with another man.

“Do you… um, do you want, will you also…” Before he had finished his stammering question, Graves had slipped out of his own briefs and then that happy ending went from a possibility to a delicious reality. That was a cock. Another man’s cock, within touching distance, half hard and plumping up quickly. When Graves settled back into the welcoming spread of Credence’s thighs, their bare dicks rubbed together and Credence shuddered, pleasure and amazement sparking through his entire body. It was indescribable, the velvety feel of Graves’ hot prick against the throbbing sensitivity of Credence’s own, coupled with the knowledge that he was finally getting intimate with somebody he trusted and cared about. It all made Credence’s brain go numb for a few seconds.

Dazedly, he became aware of Graves’ hands on his ass, squeezing luxuriously while the man kissed his nipples, and Credence couldn’t keep in a hitching moan. “Mmm. That’s… That feels so nice. Do you have… something… ooh.”

Graves had gotten a bottle of something cool and slippery from the nightstand and was now coating his palm with it, his knuckles sliding against Credence’s prick and making his hips jerk. “You want my hand, baby?”

“Uh huh,” Credence whimpered, his pelvis thrusting a little bit in instinctive anticipation.

“Fuck, look at you. So gorgeous and horny.” Graves kissed him hungrily, then carefully wrapped his slick hand around Credence’s dick, sliding his fist down to the root to coat the shaft before twisting his palm over the head. Credence cried out in pleasure, his back arching. “Goddamn, you are so hot,” Graves growled.

There was a rushing in Credence’s ears as he gasped and trembled and adjusted to the feeling of someone else’s hand on his penis for the first time, the intimate warmth of Graves’ slick fist sliding firmly up and down, making Credence feel as if his spine was liquefying into something hot and molten. It left him boneless and pliant, his legs relaxing open in astonishment as he breathlessly watched the man run his thumb over the sensitive head, his hands automatically tangling in his own hair and the muscles in his belly quivering slightly. “Ohh…”

Graves’ hand established a rhythm over his cock, then, and it felt as if he was confidently milking all the pleasure out of every cell in Credence’s body. This was miles better than just touching himself, Credence thought dazedly while he moaned and thrashed helplessly. Graves’ palm felt different, it was broader and had different callouses, and it was unpredictable, sometimes twisting over the head and sometimes dragging his foreskin down slowly before speeding up again. It was infinitely better, and made a hundred times hotter by the fact that this was _Graves_.

He still couldn’t quite believe that this was reality and not one of his fantasies. Graves, the real, breathing, living man, was staring down at him hungrily, watching Credence’s flushed face contort with ecstasy with each new slide of his fingers. “Baby,” he was murmuring, “so fucking beautiful.” The intensity of his gaze almost made Credence want to hide his face, but then Graves licked the fingers of his free hand and rolled one of Credence’s nipples and sizzling pleasure drove the thought from his mind.

He was distantly aware of the sounds he was making, helpless hitching breathy moans as Graves’ fist sped up a little more and Credence’s pelvis began to feel hot and tight. There was a sudden pinch to his nipple, and he cried out, trembling, a hot blurt of pre-come dripping down Graves’ knuckles. “Mmm. That’s good to know,” Graves purred, his dark head bending to Credence’s chest. A second later, the abused nipple was being laved with a hot tongue, then lightly bitten, held helpless between Graves’ white teeth as his tongue lashed against the captive tip of it. Credence moaned, arching his back a little, reaching out to feel the smooth skin of Graves’ bare shoulder as he released the tender, perked nub and went back to licking it teasingly. “You like that, baby? Are you sensitive here?” the man rumbled into the wet skin of Credence’s chest.

Credence tried gaspingly to get an answer out. “Y-yes. That’s… Ohh…” He could feel his climax circling now, slippery but inevitable. “Will you… mmm!” Graves was licking his other nipple now, his fist still steadily jerking Credence’s cock.

“What, sweetheart?” he said silkily, “Tell me. What else do you like? Are you close to coming?”

Credence let out a keening whine, the sound of the man’s voice almost enough to drive him over the edge, low and rich and smooth. His breath hitched and his hips stuttered.

“Oh, baby boy, do you like it when I talk to you? Is that it?” Graves came closer, pressing himself down onto the mattress at Credence’s side and propping himself on an elbow as he stroked him, looking incredibly aroused and fascinated. Credence’s face was already flushed, but he could feel a bit of extra heat adding itself to his cheeks as he bit his lip and nodded. Graves kissed him sweetly, tasting of mint toothpaste and the salt of Credence’s skin. “I’m at your service, sweetheart,” he said lowly against Credence’s lips. “All I want is to bring you pleasure.”

Credence had earlier been about to ask for a hand on his balls, but this was doing the trick quite nicely. Graves swallowed his desperate whimpers with soft lips and murmurs of, “Oh, baby, that’s it. Let me see you let go. I’ve got you. You are so gorgeous like this, right on the edge. Your beautiful cock is dripping wet, so pretty and pink and hard. With such nice heavy balls. Will you let me see you spurt, baby? Please,” he purred, nuzzling Credence’s cheek as his mouth opened in a silent scream and his ass clenched hard. “That’s it, sweet boy, get your come all over my hand. I want it, I want to see it, so nice and creamy. Come for me, baby, I want to hear what you sound like when I make you feel good.”

The dizzying climax building in his groin crashed over him with the force of a freight train, a hoarse wail forcing its way out of his throat as hot liquid pleasure ran like white fire through his prick, complete and acute and satisfying, his balls emptying themselves and his asshole clenching as wet ropes of slick, steaming come landed on Graves’ knuckles and painted his belly and chest. “So gorgeous,” Graves was murmuring, “There we go,” carefully milking his cock of the last few quivering droplets until Credence gasped and twitched, whining at the oversensitivity.

He lay there, wrung out, pulse thundering, as Graves released his prick with one last affectionate kiss to his cheek. The man rubbed a hand through the sticky release on his belly, humming in satisfaction. “Beautiful. I love seeing you all messy. It means I did a good job,” he whispered, his own hot prick nudging against Credence’s side.

“You… you could make me even messier,” Credence panted shyly. He turned his head to find Graves’ lips for a fluttering kiss. “If you wanted.”

Graves moaned into his mouth, looming up to fit himself over Credence’s body, smearing sticky release between their stomachs. “Would you like that, sweetheart? My come on you too?”

Credence nodded bashfully. “Mmm. I want to see you come on me. Mark me with it. Even after I wash it off, I will still know I am yours.”

“Holy fuck, Credence,” Graves said fervently, reaching hurriedly for his cock, waiting heavy and red between his thighs. “The things you say are so fucking hot. Where do you come up with this stuff?” There was a deliciously obscene slick sound as the man began fisting his swollen prick.

“Um. I have a vivid imagination,” Credence whispered, “and even though this is my first time in reality, I’ve done all sorts of things with you already in my head. In fact, sometimes it’s all I can think about. All the things I want to do with you, things I want you to do to me.”

Graves made a helpless punched-out noise, a shocked cry of anguished bliss as his orgasm ripped through him suddenly, his eyes wide and his mouth gasping. His fist flew over his cock roughly as thick streams of semen painted Credence’s belly and pooled in his navel, one last drip landing on his softening penis and dripping over his balls. The ticklish wet feeling of it sliding down was enough to make his drowsing cock twitch slightly, Credence feeling awash again with vicarious pleasure.

“Mmm… I can see why you enjoyed watching me now,” Credence mused. “That was so hot.” Graves was panting, his face still slack with pleasure, and Credence feasted his eyes on every bit of him. His muscular chest was heaving, his abs clenching as his hand reflexively squeezed his cock one last time before letting it go. The unguarded surrender of his relaxed expression and the soft grin he gave Credence was so beautiful he couldn’t breathe for a second. Graves heaved himself down onto the bed at his side, pressing in to kiss him again, hissing when his oversensitive prick nudged Credence’s thigh.

“My God, baby, I haven’t come so hard in years. I barely even had to touch myself, what you were saying was so fucking hot, you sweet little minx. Holy fuck,” he growled in delight. “You’ve got quite the talented tongue.”

“Mmm,” Credence purred happily, running his fingernails down Graves’ arm. “That’s good to know. I look forward to developing other talents with my tongue too.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Graves groaned into Credence’s neck. “You are going to kill me. I wish I had the stamina to take you up on that tonight, but I will just have to content myself with the lingering mental picture.” Sighing, he reached across Credence to pull open the drawer of the bedside table, coming back with a handful of wet wipes.

“You’re very prepared,” Credence murmured in sleepy amusement as Graves gently cleaned the ejaculate off the sticky skin of both of their abdomens, the cold moisture making Credence twitch a little when it brushed over his balls.

“Ah, yes. According to some, I am a control freak,” the man said wryly, wiping off his hand thoroughly before tossing the wipes neatly into the garbage, “but I prefer to think of it as organized.”

Credence, now clean, rolled on his side to throw a leg over Graves’ hip and kiss him softly. “I like it.” He ran a hand through Graves’ soft dark hair, snuggling closer while the man’s fingers rubbed ticklish circles over his hip. “I like that you’re so well put together, and you always seem to know what to do, and you plan ahead and… and make reservations and you keep track of what I like. I think it’s… what did you say before? I have a kink for you being organized. It’s hot.”

Graves chuckled against Credence’s lips. “God, Credence, you are so fucking incredible. I just want to eat you up.”

“Mmm. We’ll have to save that for another time, too,” he whispered, stretching contentedly and splaying out more heavily across Graves’ body, the post-orgasm lassitude making him feel pleasantly boneless and warm.

Graves let out a delighted guffaw, rubbing his hand down Credence’s back, unflinching at the scars this time. “You are far from a blushing virgin, aren’t you? How do you already know about rimming?”

“I told you,” Credence muttered sleepily, “I have a vivid imagination. Plus, the internet. What is a curious gay boy supposed to do when he’s finally liberated from an oppressive homophobic home, just sit around and think pure thoughts?” he said jokingly. “I may be a virgin, and I do still blush a lot, but I probably don’t qualify as innocent.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Graves’ mouth. “It was true what I said before. I’ve imagined doing all sorts of things.”

“With me?” Graves’ question was a low rumble under his cheek, his eyelids growing heavy.

“Yes,” he admitted softly, feeling a little embarrassed but too relaxed to care. There was a light brush of lips against his forehead.

“I’m honored to have appeared in your fantasies, baby,” came the low reply, layered over the thrum of Graves’ heartbeat. Fingers combed through his hair, gentle and soothing. “And Newt? I’m guessing he’s had a starring role?”

“Yeah.” Half-asleep, it was easy to be honest. “A few.”

Graves slid his hand along Credence’s thigh where it was splayed over his own. “I’m not surprised,” he murmured. 

There was a long pause. Credence’s eyes were closed now, and he’d lost himself in the rhythm of the man’s breath, lulled by the rise and fall of his chest and the comforting heat of his body.

“Well,” he thought he heard, though he was fast dropping into the dark fold of sleep, “I am selfish enough to be glad I got to have you all to myself, just this once.” Credence let out an indistinct sigh, unable to resist the pull of warm oblivion any longer. He barely noticed Graves maneuver him under the covers, though he did make a quiet noise of complaint when the man extracted himself from the bed. 

Time slipped along oddly, the distant sound of water coming from the bathroom one second, followed by a warm arm sliding around his waist the next. He hadn’t even heard Graves get back under the covers.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was dark and he was very warm and there was the sound of deep breathing coming from behind him, a muscular arm loosely flung over his ribs. There was a moment of disorienting confusion and heart-pounding adrenaline before he got his bearings and remembered where he was, blinking rapidly and trying to ease back into the pleasant sleepy fog he’d awoken from. But Credence had always been a light sleeper, and the newness of all of this caused his brain to lurch into motion, rapidly processing the fact that he was in Graves’ bed spending the night, unable to quite believe it all was real. Now that he was awake, the unfamiliar sounds of the house filled his ears, a low thrumming and creaking. He could smell a faint mix of Graves’ laundry detergent and the clean, herbal scent of his moisturizer plus the musk of sex, hot and rich. Each of Graves’ exhales sent a ruffle of warm breath across Credence’s neck, the weight of his arm a solid band of heat. 

Eventually, feeling a bit stiff, Credence eased himself onto his back, careful not to dislodge Graves’ arm as he relaxed back into the pillow and tried to will himself back to sleep. His eyes absently traced the dim rectangle of the ceiling and the smudge of the darkened light fixture in the center, but still his mind was restless. He’d had _sex_. Or, well, a sexual experience; it was his first time getting naked and having an orgasm with someone else, which he thought more than qualified as a milestone. The knowledge was vibrating under his skin pleasantly, rattling a bit like the humming of Queenie’s sewing machine. He’d had sex. With Graves.

He turned his head to the side to take in the shadowy sight of the man’s face, relaxed with sleep, his features smooth and soft and his eyelashes very long. His dark hair was falling over his forehead, and his lips were slightly parted, puffs of breath landing moist and warm on Credence’s collarbone. For a moment, his heart was so full of affection that it hurt to breathe, sharp and aching and wonderful.

It might have been minutes, or hours, that he watched the man sleep before his eyes finally started to feel heavy again, blinking as he snuggled deeper into the blankets and clutched Graves’ arm tighter to his chest. The sounds of the house dragged against his consciousness, strange and new, but he was safe here in this warm cocoon listening to Graves’ slow breathing, the sound lulling him helplessly back into their rhythm, long and deep. Before long, his own breathing matched, and then he knew no more until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you call smut with angst and fluff? Flangsmut? Smangluff? That's basically what this chapter was.
> 
> Thank you so, so much for your continued enthusiasm for this fic!! I love reading your comments, and I really really appreciate the kudos and the hits :D It always makes me want to post more right away! I can't resist.
> 
> Ah, but I need to get some sleep now. Next chapter tomorrow. Have a good night.


	13. Gate Pose

Credence woke, slightly bewildered, to the glow of light coming from Graves’ alarm clock, a fancy large lamp that was gradually brightening like a sunrise while the soft sound of chirping birds came from the speakers. He grinned sleepily when Graves made a low sound of protest and nuzzled deeper into the pillow, his arm tightening absently around Credence’s waist. The glowing numbers on the clock read 6:00 am, and outside the warm pool of light the house was dark and silent.

Graves, still half asleep, groaned as the chirping got louder, and Credence hesitantly stroked a hand over his shoulder. 

“Good morning,” he whispered.

This appeared to be a much more effective wake-up call than the alarm, the man’s eyes blinking open blearily to take in the sight of Credence smiling shyly at him, then doing a double take as his brain seemed to come fully online. He beamed at Credence, eagerly reaching over to stroke a lock of hair out of his face. “Good morning, baby. What a beautiful sight to wake up to.”

Credence blushed and leaned in for a chaste kiss, sliding his hand down the warm skin of Graves’ back. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

Graves raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? Stay any time you like. I much prefer your company to waking up alone.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of Credence’s nose then sighed as he grudgingly sat up and reached over to turn off the alarm, giving Credence a beautiful view of his rippling back muscles. “I just wish I didn’t have work to go to, so we could stay here in bed longer. You’re welcome to keep sleeping while I shower and scrounge up some breakfast, though.”

Credence giggled, sitting up and plastering himself against Graves’ back. “No thank you. The bed is nice, but I’d rather be where you are.” He was an early riser anyway, and the excitement of being here in Graves’ beautiful house meant that he already felt wide awake.

“Is that right?” Graves said playfully. “Well, you are welcome to join me, then.”

They meandered into the bathroom and were faced with the awkward question of how to handle peeing in front of each other. Graves graciously gave Credence a bit of privacy, turning to start the water in the shower while Credence relieved himself, then he took his turn while Credence slipped under the hot spray. The shower was wonderful, with high water pressure that felt amazing on Credence’s scalp and shoulders, beating firmly down over his skin. Graves slid in behind him and nuzzled against his wet cheek, reaching for the row of nice-looking shampoo and body wash bottles on the tiled ledge. To his delight, Graves seemed to want to shampoo Credence’s hair first, his strong fingers providing an even more divine sensation than the pounding water as he scrubbed over Credence’s scalp. Blissed out, Credence relaxed into the man’s chest while the suds rinsed away, leaving his hair smelling like the now faintly familiar scent of Graves’ pillow, sandalwood and aloe and something spicy. He did his best to return the favor, dragging his fingers through the man’s dark hair and watching his eyes close in pleasure at the gentle massage.

Their shower probably took a good while longer than the time allocated for it, the two of them playfully groping each other with handfuls of sudsy body wash, laughing and gasping and finally unable to resist a slippery exchange of mutual handjobs. Credence moaned as he came all over Graves’ fist once more, the sticky load swirling down the drain in amongst the suds. He moved his own hand faster over Graves’ cock, pressing closer and twining their legs together as the man’s groans reached a new pitch and he clutched the swell of Credence’s ass tightly.

“Next time, maybe we’ll have time for something more… penetrative,” Credence murmured, arching his back and pressing his ass into the man’s hand, “although I’m quite happy with this, too. I’m already addicted to touching your cock. It feels so hot and thick. I can only imagine what it would be like to have it inside me.”

Graves threw back his head and yelled, nails digging slightly into Credence’s skin as streaks of come erupted all over his wrist and arm. “Fuck! Holy fucking shit. You… mmm, you little silver-tongued _angel_.” He yanked Credence into a deep kiss, the two of them eagerly clinging together while Graves’ broad hands squeezed his ass. “Next time. Fuck, yes,” he panted.

After that, they had to wash off again, but it was worth it for the way they both seemed filled to the brim with contentment as they toweled off and went about the routine of getting ready for the day. Credence once again watched Graves’ meticulous toilette with fascination, staring enraptured as he proceeded to use a straight razor to shave his face, the practiced flicks of his wrist and the expert glide of the blade making Credence feel a bit horny again. Then, when his handsome jaw was completely smooth, Graves applied some sort of wonderful-smelling aftershave. At that point, Credence couldn’t resist putting down his electric razor to snuggle in and sniff at his neck.

“You do that every morning?” he asked in amazement. “How do you never cut yourself?”

“Practice,” Graves shrugged. “I like it better than an electric razor because it is so simple. And it gets a much closer shave. But it took a long time to be able to do it his quickly, to get a feel for exactly how much pressure to use.”

Credence ran gentle fingertips over the man’s cheek, finding it just as silky as Newt’s legs had been. “Oh,” he breathed, feeling rather desperately turned on.

After combing his hair neatly out of his face, Graves used a bit of gel to keep it in place, quirking a smile when he caught Credence surreptitiously poking at the razor where it was freshly cleaned and oiled, set drying on a towel. The man’s routine wrapped up with some deodorant and another round of the electric toothbrush while Credence used his regular one again, and then several minty kisses as they put off getting dressed for a few minutes longer, enjoying the clean drag of skin on skin. 

Finally, they pulled apart and re-emerged into the bedroom where Credence pulled his clothes on and then searched fruitlessly for the hair elastic he had discarded last night in careless whimsy at some point in the midst of their rolling around on the bed. He gave up to instead ogle Graves, who had a crisp shirt on over his elegantly pressed trousers and was currently rummaging in the tidy closet drawer for… something. His ass looked quite nice bent over like that in his suit pants.

And then he straightened up, a pair of suspenders clutched in his hand, and Credence’s mouth fell open

The man’s belt from last night was nowhere to be seen. Graves finished tucking in his shirt and clipped the suspenders onto the snug waist of his pants, the straps pulling tight over his torso and emphasizing the breadth of his chest. He looked gorgeous and perfect and manly and Credence found that he almost couldn’t breathe around the hot lump in his throat brought on by the simple gesture. In Graves’ mind, it seemed, if Credence didn’t like something, it was exiled immediately, his comfort prioritized above everything. Including belts. Speechless, Credence watched the man turn up his starched collar and knot his tie expertly, before securing it with a small gleaming pin. 

How on earth had he been lucky enough to end up with such a wonderful man? Credence belatedly realized he still needed to button up his own shirt, which was luckily not too wrinkled thanks to his careful folding the night before. He took in the elegant way Graves smoothed his collar back down and then fastened his cufflinks, astonished by how sexy such a simple act could be. Even the sight of the man sliding on his gleaming shoes over neat dark socks and then tying the laces into perfectly even knots left Credence a little breathless. By the time Credence was fully dressed, Graves had his suit jacket draped over one arm while he waited patiently for Credence to tug on his own shoes, and he couldn’t suppress the desire to march over and kiss him. Graves made a surprised noise at the fervency with which Credence clutched him as they kissed, careful not to muss his clothes but unable to resist pressing the hard bulge of his crotch against the man’s thigh.

“Credence!” he gasped in surprise. “Wow, that was fast,” he chuckled. “Oh, baby, I wish I had time to get you off again…”

“No, no, I don’t want to make you late,” Credence murmured. “I’m not asking for anything here. Just wanted you to know. You make me… you’re incredible.” He kissed the man’s smooth cheek softly, running a hand over his chest, his fingertips brushing down the length of the suspenders and Graves’ eyes tracking the movement.

“Oh,” the man breathed, cupping his face. “Sweetheart.” There was an undercurrent of emotion between them, the hot electricity of a storm brewing. Graves kissed him again, the tenderness of the press of his mouth communicating a wealth of unspoken meaning. Credence was trembling slightly as the kiss ended, and Graves kept a firm arm wrapped around his waist.

“You like the suspenders?” he asked quietly, thumb rubbing against the small of Credence’s back.

“Yes,” he whispered in answer, a wild fluttering in his chest. “You look… so handsome I can barely think. And you… I know you did that for me, which I… I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to change yourself for me, but I… That’s… I appreciate it.” He bit his lip shyly.

Graves nudged their noses together gently, eyes crinkling with a smile. “Any time, angel,” he said. “I happen to like suspenders, and I think I will wear them exclusively for a while. Especially considering you like me in them. ‘So handsome you can barely think,’ huh? I’m quite happy with that.”

Credence blushed and giggled as Graves kissed his neck, then shrieked with laughter as one hand unexpectedly pinched his ass. The man chased him playfully into the coffee-scented kitchen and pinned him against the counter, murmuring endearments in between teasing kisses and eager nibbles on his neck and ear. Eventually, Graves caught sight of the time blinking on the microwave.

“Shit,” he sighed. “We’ve run out of time for breakfast, not that I had much in the fridge in the first place. I’m so sorry Credence, do you mind if we pick something up on the way?” The coffee maker appeared to have been on a timer, because a full pot was cooling already on the counter which Graves carefully poured into a travel mug. “And I forgot to ask if you’d want some of this too. It’s not very hot anymore, but I’ve got a spare thermos if you want any.”

“No, that’s alright,” Credence smiled. “Thanks anyway. I don’t drink coffee, but I like the way it smells. And don’t worry about getting me breakfast, Jacob will feed me. It’s just what he does. But we should definitely get you something so you don’t have to work on an empty stomach.”

Graves was shrugging on his jacket and then scooping out some cat food into a little bowl on the floor. He looked up questioningly. “Oh? Who is Jacob, again?”

“He’s Juliet’s brother, he owns the bakery,” explained Credence happily, tugging on his wool coat. “I’m probably going to get there early, my shift doesn’t start until eight, and he will have just made this morning’s sandwiches and they’ll be all hot and melty.” Giddy, he bounced a little on the way out the door. “Do you want one too? I don’t know if you have time to come in, but I bet I can get you one even if they aren’t out in the display yet. Jacob makes the best sandwiches, I swear, you won’t believe how good they are.”

Graves raised his eyebrows, carefully locking the door behind them. “I’ll have to try them, then. I think there will be time.” The sky outside was still fully dark, and Credence shivered slightly in the cold air as they walked briskly to the car. “As long as I’m in my office by 7:30, Sera can’t be too upset with me, especially if I bring her a sandwich too.”

“Oh! One with peppers!” Credence enthused. “Or spicy mustard. Jacob has this one bottle of German mustard that I think has a lot of horseradish in it, and he only breaks it out on special occasions. It’s very flavorful, but it also sets your tongue on fire. Would she like that? Just a small amount. I can add it for you.” He beamed.

Graves was watching him fondly. “I bet she would. I don’t want you to go to too much trouble, though.”

“No, it would be fun!” Their car was slipping through the darkened streets, joining the morning commuters heading to the heart of the city, the traffic slowing the closer they got to the bridge toward downtown. The bakery was in a quirky neighborhood of hipster art stores and vegan cafés, nestled between an artisanal cheese shop and a store selling vintage tee shirts. “Ah! I bet you can park down by the entrance of the alley. It’s a loading zone, but we’ll only be a minute.”

As they pulled into a parking spot, Credence saw that there were already several customers in the shop, Dana’s head of spiky grey hair just visible over one man’s shoulder as she pulled out an order and set it on the counter. The bell jingled as Credence went in, sliding his hand into Graves’ and waving to Dana as she turned back around after serving another customer.

“Credence! Oh good, are you starting early?” She looked a bit overheated, and Credence remembered suddenly how tight the timing was today, trying to get all of the special orders completed for Halloween. Right, he had almost forgotten!

“I can be. How’s it going back there?” But she was already greeting another customer, and Credence couldn’t blame her for not having time to talk. He turned to Graves. “I think I’m going to just run and ask Jacob if I can clock in early. Then I can pack up the sandwiches for you. You’ll be my first customer of the day.”

“Alright,” Graves replied, just as Jacob himself emerged in a cloud of cinnamon scented steam from the back room.

“Credence, I thought I heard your name,” he said genially, wiping his face with a handkerchief. “Whew, it’s good we figured out a plan for what was going in the oven first, otherwise this would’ve been chaos today. As is, we still managed to miss a batch somehow. Did I schedule you for seven today? I can’t remember.”

“No, I just got here early,” Credence explained, already feeling the adrenaline of a busy shift starting to circulate in his system. “But I can start now, it looks like you could use me.” He bit his lip. “Um, I was just wondering if you still have that German mustard upstairs, and if you wouldn’t mind me adding a bit to one of the Paninis for a friend of ours who likes spicy food. Then I can get right to work wherever you need me the most.”

“Of course, sure!” Jacob pulled out the key to his apartment and handed it over. “You remember where it is?”

“Behind the pickled ginger, so nobody confuses it with the regular mustard,” Credence recited dutifully.

“You got it. Hey, thanks for starting early.” There was a rush of cold air as another group of customers filed into the shop, and Jacob gave him one more nod before hurrying behind the counter to help Dana.

“No problem!” Credence called hurriedly, turning to Graves. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He pressed a swift kiss to the man’s lips, squeezing his hand before scurrying behind the counter and scooping up a sandwich, then making his way through the hot kitchen, passing Andrei’s tall burly figure and darting up the stairs. Jacob’s apartment was comfortably cool after the heat downstairs, and smelled of savory grilled mushrooms and basil. The mustard was easy to find, and Credence dabbed just a bit on the inside of one of the bread slices before wrapping it up again. He’d once made the mistake of using more than just a small smear, and the inside of his mouth had not forgiven him for quite a while. Meticulously, he washed the knife he had used and dried it before replacing it back in the drawer, then locked up and clattered down the stairs to the little employee area in the corner of the back room, shrugging out of his coat.

“Hey, Credence! Thought that might’ve been you,” boomed Andrei. “You went by so fast, I almost didn’t see you, like a little shadow.” He was currently fanning a tray of peppermint yetis, biceps bulging. Andrei was a cousin of Jacob’s who usually worked the closing shifts, and he regularly tried to invite Credence to come with him to pickup soccer games with his intimidatingly rough-sounding league. Despite the fact that he was built like a Viking and had hands the size of bear paws, he was surprisingly gentle with the pastries. “I finally get to overlap with you more than just an hour or two, eh? I never get to see you do your magic with the dough.”

Credence made a vague polite noise, slightly distracted, as he hung his bag and coat up on the rack and pulled on his apron, fishing in its pocket for a spare hair elastic he kept there for days like today. “Oh, I… yes, I will be back in a moment to shape some animals, I expect,” he said, quickly smoothing his hair back into a ponytail and washing his hands. He could feel Andrei watching him curiously as he scooped up Jacob’s keys and the sandwich. “Be right back,” he said again, disappearing into the front of the shop, where the line had shortened somewhat due to Jacob’s efficient help. Credence slid in behind the counter and winked at Graves, hefting the sandwich in his hand.

“Ah! Credence, you need the register?” Jacob, on the ball as ever, made room for him at the till and beckoned Graves over, charming the people in line with a smile. “This gentleman has been waiting the longest. We fetched something for his order in the back, I’m sure you understand.” They grudgingly stepped out of the way so that Credence could ring Graves up quickly, jotting an S on the paper wrapping of the spicy sandwich and a G inside a little heart on one of the regular ones. Graves was busy signing his receipt, so Credence slid them both inside a bag and bit his lip over a happy grin.

There were too many people around for a goodbye kiss, so he had to content himself with brushing their fingers together deliberately as the man took the receipt and sending him a breathless, glowing smile.

“Thanks for your order,” he said coyly.

“My pleasure,” the man murmured. “You’re going to get some breakfast too, right?” Graves squeezed his hand for a moment.

Credence opened his mouth to reassure him, although he wasn’t actually sure he’d be able to take a break now until lunch. Too much to do.

“Jake, are you going to let me have little Credence in the back now?” boomed Andrei in the doorway jokingly. “I think we all know the pastries come out sweeter when he makes them. Such clever hands.”

Only a man as tall as Andrei would ever think to call Credence ‘little.’ Jacob chuckled. “Just wait a moment, I’ll send him back after this customer.”

“I think that’s my cue,” said Credence regretfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll eat at some point. I hope you and Sera like the sandwiches!” He let go of Graves, who was looking a bit stiff, an odd expression on his face as his eyes flicked toward Andrei looming over Credence’s shoulder.

“Yes, come along, słoneczko, I finally get to watch you make the famous dragons. Four dozen for one special order! You have an admirer, it seems.” Andrei tugged a little on the end of his ponytail, laughing.

Credence grinned a little awkwardly. “Yes, I think I know who that was.” He cleared his throat. “Sera ordered them for the party tomorrow,” he murmured to Graves, who apparently was still reluctant to go. Unfortunately, Credence really did need to get to work. “See you tonight in class,” he said, with one last hurried wave, then allowed Andrei to pull him into the back room.

And then he had no time to think any more about anything but dough and chocolate and icing and glazing, his mind narrowing to a pleasant sharp focus. Andrei took care of sweeping each set of completed trays into the massive hot ovens, sweat trickling down both their necks as they worked their way through the list of pastries. When it came time to ice them, they realized quickly that the decorations were melting too fast to hold their form, so they had to improvise, dragging the rack of pastries and a work table into the walk-in refrigerator so Credence could do the last delicate bits in there. Of course, that meant that he was alternately freezing and sweltering hot, and by the time they stopped for lunch Credence’s nice grey shirt was sticking to his back with cooling sweat and he was feeling a bit dizzy.

Right. He hadn’t eaten yet. Tina would not be pleased if she knew he had skipped breakfast, but he honestly hadn’t meant to. He was just accustomed to ignoring his stomach, having learned over the years that being hungry didn’t mean he would get any food. But that wasn’t true anymore, and he knew the importance of eating regular meals every day.

“Słodyczko, come have a seat,” Andrei was saying, and Credence gratefully slumped down at the tiny table where a pile of sandwiches was waiting. An hour ago Mila had arrived and Jacob had sent a grateful Dana to have her lunch early. Now she had finished eating and was peacefully rolling out molasses bears at one of the worktables, the jingle of the bell still sounding often from the front of the shop. 

He nearly cried at how good the sandwich tasted after the rush of the morning and how nice it felt to be off his feet. “Mmm,” he sighed quietly, and Andrei chuckled.

“Jacob makes excellent sandwiches, doesn’t he? But I would argue that I could give him a run for his money with my kołaczki. Our grandmother never would say, but I think she liked the way I folded them just a bit better than his way,” he joked. Credence smiled shyly around a mouthful of sandwich.

Across the room, Dana snorted. “And Jacob would agree?”

Andrei made an offended noise. “Well, certainly, he would never question Babcia’s expertise! But of course, I never got her to say anything concrete on the subject. Credence, you will just have to be the tie breaker. You can come over for dinner next week, and I will make them for you.” He waved a hand in a triumphant flourish. “See whose flavors are better.”

“Andrei,” groaned Dana. “Give it up.”

“What, never! Kołaczki are my favorite thing to make. I’ve grown up in Jake’s shadow,” he exclaimed theatrically. “He was older and he was always Babcia’s favorite. I must have this one thing of my own. Sweet Credence, won’t you please say you’ll taste them?”

“In his shadow,” Dana laughed, fortunately saving Credence from needing to reply. His mouth was full of food, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to say anyway. “You’re as tall as a tree! I don’t think anybody could cast a shadow big enough to cover you.”

Andrei made an indistinct noise of frustration. “Ah, but that’s not the point! I am trying to–”

But at that moment, Jacob ducked in through the door, stretching his back and rolling his shoulders. “Oof… Finally hitting that 1:30 dead spot never felt so good. Dana, if you hear the bell a whole bunch, would you mind giving Mila a hand? I think she ought to be alright, though. How are we coming with those orders?”

Credence relaxed minutely as the conversation shifted. Andrei was perfectly nice, and he was sure the pastries he was talking about were delicious, but he disliked being the center of attention and feeling put on the spot. Plus he got the sense there was something Dana understood that he did not.

Andrei pulled out a chair for Jacob and jovially explained about putting the worktable in the fridge, which had Jacob’s brow furrowing. “Shoot, I didn’t realize the heat had gotten so bad. We really aren’t set up to have all the ovens going at once for so long, I guess. Darn. Credence, I don’t like the idea of you having to be so cold just to ice things, people aren’t meant to spend more than a minute or two in the walk-in fridge, it isn’t safe.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t plan this better. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that last big order.” 

Andrei’s brow furrowed as Credence fought to swallow the last of his sandwich. “Not safe? How come? Słodyczko, are you not feeling well?” One large hand covered his forehead for a moment before Credence gently removed it.

“I am feeling fine, Andrei. Jacob, don’t worry, I was going in and out so I never got all that cold.”

Jacob still looked worried. “Alright, but I’m hoping that won’t be necessary again. We’ve got the bulk of the baking done for the day, so all that is left will be icing. I’m going to call a friend and see if we can borrow a fan or two, get the hot air out of here.” They had an emergency back door they could prop open as well, but ever since a raccoon had come inside one morning and eaten a whole rack of pastries they tended not to. This might call for risking more wildlife visitors, though.

The rest of the afternoon was spent carefully icing large quantities of little figures, the repetition dulling the process to a pleasant sort of automatic motion while Credence’s mind wandered to the party tomorrow. What sort of costumes would everyone be wearing? He had no idea what Newt or Graves were going to be dressed as, though he knew Newt was going to be showing off his beautiful legs. With a pleasant squirm of his stomach, he remembered he was going to get to watch him shave tonight, a prospect which even now didn’t seem real. Had he just dreamt that invitation? It was incredible to him that Newt would be willing to share something so intimate, so personal. He grinned as he realized that he would also get to see all of Newt’s dogs again tonight, filled with joyful anticipation.

Credence finished his tray of dragons and turned with a sigh to hand them to Andrei to put them in the fridge. “What are you thinking about, sweetness? Such a happy smile,” the man asked eagerly.

“Andrei,” groaned Dana. “Give it up.”

Credence didn’t really understand what she was talking about. “What? I am just asking him a question,” Andrei said with exaggerated innocence. “Well, kochanie? What was it that made you smile?”

Credence blushed hot at their expectant stares, finding himself the focus of all three of his coworkers, Dana looking exasperated and Jacob fond. “I was thinking about my friend’s dogs?” Somehow it came out as a question. “Um. Jacob, do you remember Newt? From a few weeks ago.”

“Sure! The yoga teacher who loves animals. He was real complimentary about the shop. What a nice guy,” Jacob said easily.

“Yeah. He has four dogs, and they are really sweet,” Credence mumbled, feeling his face flame red. “I was helping take care of them the other day when one of them was sick. He’s fine now, though. I was just… thinking about seeing them again.”

“Ah,” said Andrei triumphantly, “So if I were a dog, you would smile and sigh for me?”

Credence was fairly sure he was being teased, but he was too flustered to come up with a reply to that.

“But Andrei,” said Dana sarcastically, “you are already behaving like a dog, panting after him. If it hasn’t worked by now, I don’t think that’s going to help.” She rolled her eyes, and then her voice softened. “Don’t you see? He has a boyfriend.”

Credence stared at her in shock, his mouth falling open. What? Since when had Andrei been panting after him?

“A boyfriend?” To his bafflement, Andrei sounded genuinely disappointed. Credence had always taken his effusive use of pet names and teasing compliments to be part of his personality, but apparently he ought to have understood it to be a romantic overture. “No, no, but who will I make pastries for now? Oh, sunshine, you’re breaking my heart. This man, does he bake for you? Does he treat you well? How many times has he made you dinner this week?”

“Um…” Credence felt mildly panicked.

“Andrei,” said Jacob softly. “That’s none of our business.”

“But! It’s little Credence! Nobody deserves him, least of all someone who isn’t a good man or doesn’t take care of him.” Andrei gestured emphatically with one giant arm.

Credence felt like his face was on fire hotter than the ovens had been this morning. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a squeak.

“Good lord,” sighed Dana. “We can assume he’s a good man, because Credence isn’t an idiot. He had the good sense not to go to your insane skull-crushing soccer games, at least.”

“What? I wouldn’t have let anybody crush his skull. I just thought he might like to watch.” He turned to Credence. “Słoneczko, if this boyfriend of yours puts so much as a toe out of line, you tell me and I will make sure he never does it again. Then we’ll have dinner, alright?” He grinned hopefully, dark eyes sparkling over his short thick beard.

Credence finally found his voice, still a little high and breathy. “Uhm,” he managed. “Maybe.” He swallowed, throat clicking. “I’m… I’m so sorry, I honestly didn’t realize you were actually… um….”

“Told you,” sang Dana quietly. “If you come on too strong, it seems like it’s too exaggerated to be sincere. He just thought you were joking around.”

Andrei looked crestfallen, and Credence felt awful. When Mila stuck her head into the back to ask for help dealing with a line at the counter, he took the cowardly way out and slunk through the door to go help her, whispering one last “I’m sorry” as he went. 

There was only an hour left in his shift by the time he’d managed to shake off his anxious mortification, enjoying Mila’s quiet company out front and the way she never asked him too many questions. It occurred to him that Graves had been right the night before when he had said teasingly that maybe there were people flirting with Credence without him realizing it. Huh. And Credence had been so sure he was mistaken. 

Shortly after three, Jacob came out and asked him if he wanted to go home early, considering he started at seven instead of eight, but that seemed like running away, kind of a callous move right now. Instead, Credence stayed until four and did his best to look Andrei in the eye before he left, saying carefully, “I hope you find someone who makes you happy. I am sorry that it wasn’t me.”

“Oh, Credence,” the man sighed, “it was wishful thinking anyway. I could never deserve you. Not your fault.”

It was closure, of a kind, but it still made his stomach twist unpleasantly as he walked to the bus stop. He hadn’t been able to think of anything to say in response to express that it wasn’t about deserving, it was just about fit. He wasn’t some unobtainable ideal, out of reach. But he didn’t know how to respond to the thick self-deprecation in the man’s tone without unintentionally encouraging him to renew his interest.

How did his cousins deal with situations like this? He knew that Queenie got asked out all the time, by virtue of being cute and friendly and in a customer service position where she was in constant contact with the public. No doubt Tina had too, though less often, since she consciously limited her social interactions. Nobody had worked out, though, not yet. Queenie had dated plenty of men, of course, but only one or two had gotten serious enough for Credence and Tina to meet them before the relationship dissolved. Queenie always picked herself up afterward, but each time she seemed a bit sadder.

“Not sure what’s missing from all of these guys, but I still haven’t found it,” she’d muttered once into his shoulder while they sulked together on the couch. “Maybe I’ll know it when I see it.” Credence had only been a month into living there at the time, dull-eyed and emotionally exhausted, and somehow her misery had been a guilty comfort. Here was something they could bond over, both of them glum and sad.

When he stepped off the bus, it occurred to him to check his phone, cheered by the possibility that there might be a text from Graves or Newt, but nothing popped up after the affirmative reply Tina had sent last night. The apartment was empty and quiet, and Credence sank down on the couch with a huff, feeling restless and uncomfortable and aching for a distraction. Impulsively, he pulled open his email and found the message Tori had sent earlier that week with digital copies of the photos from the shoot. He had already thanked her and saved each one in his images folder, but now he bit his lip and tried setting one as his wallpaper background. On the little screen, Newt stared back at him over one pale shoulder, long hair brushing his cheek and the spreading color of his tattoo decorating the freckled skin of his back. Credence clutched the case tightly, worrying that this was too presumptuous. He changed the image to the shot of Pickett peeking out from under his blanket, but that seemed overly familiar as well.

In the end, he just set it back to the photo he’d had before, a default shot of a beach at sunset. Feeling a bit listless, he packed his bag, got dressed for yoga and slogged through a half hour of his psychology reading before Tina came through the door in a clatter of keys.

“Credence! Feels like I haven’t seen you in days!” She kissed him on the head, and Credence couldn’t help but cling to her a little bit. She pulled back to get a good look at him. “Bambi,” she said softly, “is something wrong?”

He shrugged one shoulder, unsure. “No,” he whispered. “I just missed you.” She sat down at his comment and let him faceplant in her shoulder, automatically rubbing his back.

“Oh, sweetie. We missed you too, these last two evenings. And now tonight you’re going to be at Newt’s again?” Tina squeezed him a little tighter. “After this weekend, when things are less busy, I want us to have some family time. Just the three of us. Maybe we can go to the zoo, do you think? Or the movies?”

Credence nodded into her neck. “That sounds nice.” His voice was muffled by her shirt.

“Bambi, are you feeling okay?” Her hand was stroking through his hair. “It takes a lot of energy to spend so much time out of your own private space, doesn’t it? Especially when you’re an introvert. I sure can relate. You want to just stay in tonight?”

Credence sighed. A part of him did, wanted to just curl up and escape into a book and hide from the rest of the confusing, overwhelming world. But then he wouldn’t get to see Graves or Newt. “No,” he murmured. “I’ll be fine. I’m just tired.”

“I see,” she said, sounding a little awkward. “You… didn’t get much sleep? With Graves?”

Hurriedly, Credence pulled back. “No, no, it’s not like we were… um, up all night doing… anything. I just don’t sleep well in new places. The sounds are different. And we had to get up an hour earlier than I usually do, so that Graves could drop me at work on his way to the office, which would’ve been fine, I just had a long shift with lots of… lots of complications.” His face crumpled involuntarily at the surge of embarrassment and guilt that stirred up.

“What complications?” Tina’s brow was furrowed, her hands carefully cupping his face. “Was a customer rude to you again? I swear, people are such jerks.”

“No,” Credence said miserably. Honestly, what really had happened wasn’t even that bad. He suddenly couldn’t bear to say it aloud, ashamed for his glum mood. Oh, boo hoo, somebody was flirting with me and I had to turn him down. That was… well, it sounded so entitled. But it wasn’t quite that simple, was it? It was more ‘I didn’t realize what his intentions were and what if I accidentally led him on and ruined our sort-of friendship and _why_ couldn’t he have just come out and asked?’ Plus the nagging humiliation of not knowing how many other social cues he’d been missing, what unintentional blunders he’d made over the years. That was the part that was making him feel a bit sick.

Sometimes he hated having to talk to people. He wished everything was cut and dry, no miscommunications and no worrying over what someone really meant when they asked you about your favorite flavor of doughnut. He felt irritable and petulant and defensive, and he longed suddenly for the easy simplicity of lying curled in Graves’ arms, quiet and safe. Somehow, Graves made everything better.

“I’ll tell you about it later, I promise, but I think yoga is going to help me the most right now,” Credence said honestly. He just needed to see Graves, and everything would be alright.

Tina rubbed her thumb gently over his cheek. “Okay. You tell me when you want to talk, I’ll be happy to listen.” She got up and went to change for kickboxing while Credence sighed and slumped back down on the couch.

What if he was about to put Newt in the same situation he had just been in today? Here he was trying to get close to him, learning all this information about him without knowing if Newt really was ever going to want to be more than friends. Was it going to make Newt uncomfortable to find out that Credence would love to turn their friendship into something else? If Newt had no clue that Credence had feelings for him, then his confession had the potential to be just as much of an awkward and painful surprise as this afternoon with Andrei. He hated the idea of making Newt unhappy.

But he didn’t know for sure what would happen, did he? He could make sure not to pressure Newt, be honest and respectful, and hope that their friendship survived no matter what.

And he was lucky, so lucky, because he also had Graves, who always knew what to say, who was solid and straightforward and understanding, and if Newt said no then Credence would cling to Graves and feel every bit as safe and comforted as his rejection would allow.

He stood suddenly off the couch and waited far more eagerly for Tina to come out of her room, hurrying behind her as she led them down to the car. His leg was absently jiggling on the drive over, though he forced himself to stop when they picked up Queenie, not wanting another round of questions just yet. At last, the three of them were entering the gym and Credence murmured a hurried “Meet you here later,” before dashing upstairs to the yoga studio, dismayed to find that Graves wasn’t in his usual spot yet. Credence was a good ten minutes early, though, so instead he rolled out his mat and claimed their space in the back corner, grinning shyly at Newt and waving to Tori who beamed back at him from where she was stretching her hamstrings on the floor. 

He had stretched his own hamstrings and was just moving on to his glutes, folding one leg across his body while the other remained stretched out in front, when he saw a pair of fancy gym shoes in his peripheral vision.

“Hello,” came an unfamiliar voice with the smooth hint of an accent. “You look like you know what you’re doing, with this whole yoga business.”

Credence stared up at the young man from earlier in the week who had been eyeing him and Graves. He was blonde and slim and tall, and Credence had to crane his neck a bit to see his face from his position on the floor. “Do I? Oh, um, thank you. It’s all an illusion, though. I only started a few weeks ago, still a beginner too. I wouldn’t have a clue without Newt’s instructions.”

The man tilted his head slightly. “He’s an excellent teacher, isn’t he.” It wasn’t really a question. “But how are you already so flexible?” He had very lovely grey eyes in a slightly pointed face, and seemed a perfectly nice guy, but Credence was not in the right headspace to deal with this, and to figure out whether it was flirting or not.

“Stretching every day, I guess. And I go running a lot,” he said, swallowing. “With my boyfriend,” he added bluntly. Just in case.

The man nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Ah. I see. A runner,” he said with a small genuine grin. “Well, I’ll just have to work on my flexibility more. Sounds like daily practice is the way to go, thank you for the advice.”

Mystified, Credence watched him slip gracefully over to his mat again with a quiet word to the young woman set up next to him. She asked him something, her short dark hair swinging, and he shook his head. No idea what that was about. With a small sigh, Credence switched legs and rested his forehead on his knee, hiding in the warm darkness behind his eyelids. There were footsteps approaching him, but he didn’t look up, not sure if he wanted to deal with the subtleties of any other strangers today.

“Hey,” came Graves’ soft voice, and Credence stirred eagerly, blinking spots from his vision and looking up at him in bleary relief. The man sat down to pull off his shoes. “Thanks for saving me a spot.” He was watching Credence carefully, affection and worry etched around his dark eyes. “Did you have a rough day?”

“How could you tell?” he said in a gust of breath, easing his legs out of the stretch and scooting closer to Graves to plunk his head on the man’s shoulder.

“Just a hunch. It seemed like you were in for a busy shift when I left, and then it almost looked like you’d fallen asleep in your stretch there,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Credence’s forehead.

“Mmh,” Credence groaned.

“That bad, huh? Did something happen at work?” Graves’ arm was wrapped around his waist, his words pressed against Credence’s hair, and suddenly none of his worries seemed like that big of a deal any more.

“Nothing serious,” he breathed, “I just got really tired all of a sudden. I bet yoga will help energize me.” But he still made no move to dislodge himself from his slump against Graves. “Thanks for asking,” he mumbled, twisting so that he could wrap his arms around the man’s torso in a tight hug.

“Of course, baby.” The low rumble of his voice, quiet and private, made Credence’s neck tingle. There was the press of another kiss to the top of his head, and then the soothing music from Newt’s ipod had begun and he had to let go. Graves’ eyes lingered on him throughout their warmup poses, and Credence smiled back at him, reassuring him that everything really was okay. 

And it was, now, incredibly. Graves’ arms were like an injection of happiness, and the clarity of yoga was easing the stress from his mind.

By the end of the class, Credence was feeling fully revived. He took his time chatting with Graves as they packed up their things, meandering over in the direction of Newt where he stood talking to the new students once more. Tori raised an eyebrow when she saw the way Credence had boldly tucked himself under Graves’ arm, and she gestured between the two of them in a wordless question. Feeling courageous, Credence nodded.

“Wow, Graves, you must’ve stepped in some lucky fairy dust! So, this is really a thing? Credence, I would question your taste if I didn’t admire you so much,” she joked exaggeratedly. “Of all the many options you have, him, really?”

“Wha… hey!” Graves said indignantly, tightening his arm around Credence’s body possessively. “I’m standing right here. You’re very rude, Astoria.”

“Mmm, yes, and you’d better be counting your blessings, Percival.” There was a sparkle in her eyes that took some of the sting out of her words.

Credence grinned at her shyly, kissing Graves on the cheek in lieu of a response, unsure what to say to encapsulate just how lucky he felt.

“Okay, damn it, that’s adorable. That’s like… God, you two are so cute, I can’t handle it. Gross, I never wanted to think of you as cute, Graves.”

Credence was hiding his giggles while Graves said smugly, “Well, get used to it. We’re going to be so fucking cute all the time, it will make you want to puke.”

“Charming,” she said dryly. “Credence,” she stage-whispered, “really? This sarcastic asshole? Darling, I have lots of perfectly nice gay artist friends, I could introduce you.”

“No, no, stop that,” interjected Graves, “you’re about as subtle as an anvil. Stop trying to sabotage me,” he groused playfully. “I get enough of that from Sera at work. She loved the sandwich, by the way, wanted to know why hers didn’t have a heart on it like mine.” This last part was said petulantly to Credence. “I think she wants you. She’s hoping to steal you away and have you cook for her all the time.”

This was too much, and Credence couldn’t stop the helpless laughter from bubbling out of him any longer, clutching Graves for balance.

“What, you don’t believe me? She told me that the spicy mustard was a work of genius, and she followed me around until I finally gave in and tried it. No offense, baby, but it nearly burnt my tongue off. She’s nuts, clearly off her rocker, and I wouldn’t put it past her to kidnap you and make you her personal chef. Didn’t you say she put in a special order for the party tomorrow? Four dozen?”

“Twelve dozen,” Credence corrected, grinning. “Those four were just the chili chocolate ones.”

“See? She’s obsessed with your baking. And you in general. She keeps asking me things about you. When your birthday is, what colors of nail polish you like, whether you and your cousins might want a new set of kitchen knives, random stuff. It seems like she’s a bit fixated.”

Credence gaped at him. “Kitchen knives?”

Tori rolled her eyes. “Sera is a little over-the-top when it comes to giving gifts. Incidentally, I have also been asked to suss out whether Tina likes to watch live Karate, and if Queenie needs any new fabric. My sister just likes to poke her nose in and give people what they need.”

“That’s… that’s so considerate. I will have to thank her!” he breathed in astonishment.

“What? No, no, don’t encourage her,” interjected Graves laughingly, “then she’ll never stop. Baby, I can buy you any knives you want, don’t let her win you over.”

Credence giggled. “Oh, I don’t think it’s really me she’s trying to win over.” At least, he hoped not. He was pretty sure she returned Tina’s interest. He smoothed a hand over Graves’ shoulder comfortably. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“What’s this about Credence buying knives?” Newt had joined them quietly at some point, the new students nowhere in sight and his neatly packed bag over his shoulder. He had a soft look of confusion on his face as one pale hand fiddled with the buckle on the strap. 

Graves’ eyes crinkled as he grinned at Newt. “Well, you see, Credence is secretly a mobster. Very lethal. His weapons of choice are knives spread with horseradish mustard, burns through anything. Except for Sera’s tongue, which is made of Kevlar.” The four of them meandered toward the door, heading out of the studio and downstairs.

Credence covered his smile with his hand as Tori said thoughtfully, “She may have a strong tongue, but you are also just a wimp, Percy.”

“Astoria, I told you not to call me Percy,” Graves groaned. “So we’re resorting to name-calling now?” His voice turned sly. “That’s dangerous territory. If I recall correctly, Sera gave you some pretty embarrassing nicknames too.”

She hopped off the last step on the stairs and kicked him lightly in the shin. “You wouldn’t dare go there. I’ll tell her, and she’ll fire you.”

Graves threw back his head and guffawed. “Ha! No, she won’t. Don’t you know I’m far too valuable?”

She aimed another kick at his thigh and he caught her around the knee with his hands, the two of them laughing as they tried to knock each other over without overbalancing themselves.

Grinning fondly, Credence rolled his eyes at Newt, who was looking a bit taken-aback. “Play fighting. Kind of like puppies,” he reassured him, and he was rewarded with a small grin. “Speaking of, I am looking forward to seeing your adorable pack again.”

“Oh!” Tori was panting slightly, shoving away from Graves with one last playful swat. “Credence, my darling, are you going to Newt’s tonight? I want a picture this time! He told me how cute you looked on the couch covered in all his pets, and I couldn’t believe he hadn’t taken a photo.” She mock-scowled at Newt, but the man seemed to miss the joking tone of her voice.

“I… I had my hands full with Pickett, I didn’t realize I ought to have…” Newt looked a little uncomfortable, actually, his hand twisting the end of his grey and yellow scarf. Credence had a strong urge to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, sweetie, I was only joking,” Tori said quickly. “You didn’t have to, I was just captivated by the picture you painted.” She grinned. “Ah! There’s Queenie and Tina. And my sister.”

To Credence’s surprise, the three women were walking out of the class together, talking quietly. As they reached them, Sera nodded at Graves and Newt before turning her keen gaze on Credence. “Credence,” she purred, “thank you so much for your thoughtfulness this morning, I hear you customized that order just for me, and the spice you added was incredible.” She sent him a dazzling smile. “I have half a mind to ask you to come up with recipes for me full-time.”

Graves made an indignant noise. 

“Yes, hush, Graves, he can cook for both of us if he wants to,” Sera said smoothly. “I forgot to have Abernathy leave you my card earlier this week,” she continued. “If you and Mr. Kowalski ever want to expand your business, consider me an interested financial backer. Maybe a second location… there’s an empty lot down the street from our office.” Her gaze sparkled. “Or catering, or something else you’d enjoy. Just think about it.”

Credence nodded, his eyes wide. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Please, I meant what I said before, sweetheart” she said warmly, “Call me Sera.” She pressed the card into his hand gently. “Newt,” she nodded, “lovely to see you too.” Newt replied politely, looking a little wide-eyed, while Credence glanced over and caught the the smitten look on Tina’s face as she stared at Sera. He grinned.

“Well, Tori and I should be going. We have a bit of last-minute decorating to do.” Sera looked a bit reluctant, turning a soft look toward Tina. “Looking forward to seeing you all tomorrow at the party.” There was a smile playing around the edges of her lips, a hint of triumph in her eyes as Tina turned a bit pink.

Then she and Tori were striding off toward the parking lot, the two of them as striking as ever side by side, drawing the stares of several people on their way out.

“Hmm,” mused Queenie, hiding a grin. “We should probably get going too.” She nudged Tina, who still looked a little dreamy-eyed.

“Right! Yes. Home. And to Newt’s place!” Tina shook off the fog left in Sera’s wake and led them all out to the car, Credence pressing a discrete kiss to Graves’ cheek as they parted ways in the parking lot.

“I’ll text you tonight or tomorrow morning,” he whispered, nervous excitement building. “Let you know how it goes. What he thinks of our proposal.” There was a lot riding on tonight, and Credence desperately hoped he would be able to come clean without pushing Newt away in the process. And if it worked… if their conversation went the way he hoped it would, maybe they would all get the chance to be happy.

Graves grinned and squeezed his hand. “I look forward to it. Good luck, baby,” he murmured.

With one last glowing smile, Credence hurried off to slide into the car. Just like last time, he took the front seat, one knee bouncing anxiously as they drove through the shadowy city and pulled up in front of Newt’s charming brick building. He hopped out immediately, heart racing, pulling his bag over his shoulder and opening the door for Newt at the same time.

“Oh, thank you,” the man murmured, unfolding his long slender legs and taking Credence’s proffered hand, making butterflies erupt in Credence’s stomach. “What chivalry,” Newt said, looking a little pink.

“My pleasure,” Credence said, aiming for suave but just ending up a bit breathless. He ducked his head to look in at Tina. “See you at home later.”

She nodded and grinned at him encouragingly. “Text me if you want to be picked up, or if you need anything.”

He reassured her that he would, and then the car slipped off into the night. 

And then he was blessedly alone with Newt, heartbeat pounding, all of his hopes lined up trembling in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend, everybody :)
> 
> It would appear that I just can't resist making this story really long and complicated. Feelings are hard, and people are confusing, and Credence is making his way slowly toward understanding how to navigate it all.
> 
> On a semi-unrelated note, I have a weakness for jealous Graves...
> 
> Also, the cute names Andrei was using are translated below. Please correct me if I got any of these wrong.  
> Słoneczko - sunshine  
> Słodyczko - sweetness  
> Kochanie - sweetheart


	14. Triangle Pose

Newt and Credence climbed the stairs up to the apartment in companionable silence, Credence unsure what he should say. He didn’t want to just blurt out his feelings right off the bat, wanted to wait for the right moment, but he was having trouble thinking of much else to talk about. Instead, he simply drank in the thrill of being here, amazed that Newt was once again allowing him inside his wonderful home and welcoming his intrusion into his private life.

“Thank you for having me over again,” he finally managed to say politely as Newt was unlocking the door.

“Oh, of course!” Newt’s melodic voice was lovely as always, his smile ghostly and beautiful in the dark. “I’m pleased that you wanted to come.”

And then they were inside, and the dogs were just as excited to see Credence as last time. Pickett, now wearing a thick fuzzy sweater, was even wagging his tail, pointy little nose twitching as he sniffed Credence’s leg.

“Hello, Pickett,” Credence said gently, kneeling to scratch the little dog’s velvety head and getting a wet snuffle against his neck from Dougal for his trouble. “And hello to you too, Dougal.”

Frank was nuzzling Newt happily, whining a little, his tail wagging like mad, while Bandit tried to burrow into Credence’s gym bag. “Oh, darling, no,” Newt said, giggling, “There’s no food in there for you. Yes, Frank, Mummy’s back now, I’m here. I missed you too.”

When they had gotten the dogs all settled down in the living room, Newt ordered a pizza, answering the door several moments later with Morgana draped casually across his shoulders, then dashing into the kitchen for his wallet, waving away Credence’s offer to pay. The startled delivery guy started to look a bit nervous when Dougal and Frank wandered to the doorway and began to try and sniff him, so Credence summoned the firmest voice he could and said, “Come here, lads.”

And, miraculously, they did. Dougal and Frank settled on either side of his legs, Dougal flopping over his feet and Frank’s head on his knee while Credence pet his velvety ears, watching Bandit from the corner of his eye as he rolled on the floor with a glittery toy. Pickett was sitting in the warm spot Newt had left on the couch, looking a little forlorn, so Credence carefully scooped him up and cuddled him in his lap, the little dog staring up at him while he gently stroked down his back under the fluffy sweater. “Is that better, darling?” he murmured.

When he looked up again, the pizza guy was staring at him.

“Um. He’ll be back in a minute,” Credence said softly.

Newt reappeared in a flurry of cat fur and counted out the proper change, his eyes widening when he saw how well-behaved everyone was.

“Goodness, I didn’t actually mean to leave the door wide open! The creatures could’ve escaped, or something. Thank you for watching them, Credence. I can see they listen to you even better than to me.”

That didn’t seem likely, but Credence glowed with pride all the same. They had to get up from their comfortable pile to move to the kitchen, where the pizza was devoured at the table by the humans while the dogs and Morgana had their dinner in a neat row along the wall. 

Credence loved watching Newt. Even eating pizza, he managed to be graceful and eccentric, folding the slice carefully in half and eating it like a taco so that nothing fell off the top, then carefully wiping the grease off his pink lips with a napkin. Where had he learned to do that? Perhaps it was just the way he had always done it, an inherent Newt-ism. Credence did his best not to spill sauce on his shirt or make a total mess, but somehow he still succeeded in dropping an olive on the floor, which Bandit immediately gobbled up.

“Oh, don’t worry. It was edible,” Newt said airily when Credence winced. “He’s eaten much worse things.”

This launched them into a funny story about Bandit running off with some lady’s handbag after he had gotten loose from Newt inside of a bank. “He was just a puppy then, very rambunctious. I tried keep a hold on him, but he was just so small. He wriggled out of his leash somehow and went on a bit of a rampage. Had to take him to the vet straight away, he’d swallowed a couple of coins, a broach and a shiny marble.” Newt scratched behind Bandit’s soft dark ears. “What a little thief,” he said fondly. 

“Thank goodness he was alright,” put in Credence, and Newt smiled at him.

“Yes, my thoughts exactly. We were so lucky it wasn’t worse, and I was so worried. That was a terrible day, to be honest. I had only just adopted him a week previous and it didn’t help that the owner of the broach was screeching at me to give it back, as if I could magically make it reappear on the spot.” He sighed. “I don’t understand people sometimes. When I brought it back to her after they pumped his stomach, she looked at me like I was a criminal and she didn’t even ask if Bandit was okay.”

“That was awfully rude of her,” Credence said fervently, offended on Newt’s behalf. “It was just an accident.”

“I agree,” Newt said petulantly, stretching his long legs out in front of himself and rubbing a hand over his face. “Ah, but it is in the past. Resentment is never healthy, is it? Just means you suffer all over again. I know that, but after all this time I am still trying to let it go. Still makes me upset to think about how awful that felt.”

Credence could relate. 

“It isn’t easy, is it? Trying to stop picking the past apart, looking back and feeling angry, wishing it had been different.” He rubbed his thumb over a small row of shallow grooves in the soft wood of the table, likely caused by a set of claws. Newt was watching him carefully, and Credence shrugged minutely. “I still haven’t figured out how to stop, either.”

Newt nodded slowly. “Do you have a lot of memories you’d rather forget?” he said, his voice very soft.

“Yes,” whispered Credence. A whole lifetime of them.

Newt’s irises were so green and so pretty. “What helps you refocus yourself on the present?” 

Credence bit his lip. “Reading. And baking, and losing myself in a task that I find comforting. Having my family close by. Hugs. Animals. Talking to someone who’s a good listener.” He set his chin in the palm of his hand. “Yoga.”

Newt’s eyes crinkled with the force of his smile. “Really?”

Credence nodded. “Your class is definitely helping. I always feel like my head is clearer afterward.”

“That’s wonderful,” Newt enthused. “I am so glad to hear that.” And the next thing Credence knew, Newt was up out of his chair, startling Morgana out of his lap and coming round the table to wind his arms around Credence. It was a bit of an awkward hug, since Credence was still sitting down and Newt had to bend over to drape himself over his shoulders, but it was also one of the nicest hugs he had ever gotten. One of Newt’s hands smoothed over his back while the other cupped the nape of his neck, and Credence could smell the mint and eucalyptus shampoo in his hair and feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his shirt. Newt’s cheek was smooth but his jaw was slightly bristly, just like Credence’s own, and when Credence returned the hug and ran his palm lightly down Newt’s spine, the man gusted out a warm sigh that ruffled against his hair.

“Credence, I am so glad that you joined my class, and that we have become friends.” His voice was slightly muffled into Credence’s shoulder. “I’m not terribly good at… at getting close to new people, and I… I’m so lucky that you were open to trying that photo shoot with me. I feel as if somehow, after that, the hard work of opening up was already over and I had come out of it with this incredible feeling of closeness with you...” He trailed off, pulling away from the hug, his cheeks slightly pink.

“The creative process forges a bond,” Credence said, grinning shyly. “I agree. After that, I knew with even more certainty that I could trust you with my true self.”

“Oh,” Newt breathed. “Wow, Credence, I… That’s a beautiful way of putting it.”

“Ah, well, I think I stole that first part from Sera, actually, but I do mean it.” Credence stood and started to clear away their dishes, setting them carefully in the sink. “I, um. I have to confess, I was a bit in awe of you at first. I wasn’t sure how to approach you, to initiate conversation or… try and get to know you. I find that to be the hardest part.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I tend to avoid crowds, and strangers, and new social situations, but sometimes… Sometimes the potential for reward is greater than my anxieties.” Newt was smiling at him softly. “I’m glad I joined your class too.”

Newt bounced a little on the balls of his feet. “And to think, I had no idea when I first saw you that we’d be having a spa night together someday. I’ve never done this with someone else before,” he admitted. “I have a feeling it is going to be much more fun with company.”

“I can’t wait,” Credence breathed.

“Well, shall we get started? The lads and Morgie will have to stay out here, or we’ll all get soaking wet.”

Bemused, Credence followed Newt through his apartment as he gathered the supplies they would need. Credence had brought a soft pair of sweatpants and a spare towel, just in case, along with his dry-shave electric razor, but Newt declared that half the fun was soaking in the hot water, so he wouldn’t need that. Newt led him to the bathroom and handed him a spare pair of swim trunks, then gave him some privacy to change into them while he disappeared into his own bedroom to change. The trunks were rather short and revealing, but they preserved his modesty as he shivered in his tee shirt. 

Then Newt appeared, and Credence nearly choked on his tongue. He’d forgone a shirt entirely, and was clad only in a tiny red speedo that showed the entirety of the tattoo on his thigh. It was a phoenix, it looked like, detailed and fiery, feathers spreading out over smooth skin and flexing muscle as Newt knelt to turn on the taps in the bath.

Feeling rather hot all of a sudden, Credence bravely shucked off his own shirt and folded it neatly in the corner with the rest of his clothes. Newt had set his ipod to play some sort of relaxing music, and as the large tub filled with steaming hot water the room was scented by the delicate aroma of lemon and sage from the oil he’d added to the bath.

“Alright,” Newt said, sliding the dimmer switch on the light down a bit and dipping his toes in the water. “Ahh,” he sighed happily, sinking until the water lapped at his chest. “Oh, that’s so nice. Come on in, Credence, the first step is just to let the hair on your legs soften in the hot water, which is basically an excuse to lay back and take a nap. Or maybe have a back massage, if you wanted.”

Actually, that sounded heavenly. “Okay,” he replied, tentatively climbing in and sloshing his way into a seated position, the heat of the water immediately seeping into his muscles and making him feel as though all the tension had left him. “Oh, wow, that really is relaxing.” Newt’s tub was large enough for the two of them to sit at opposite ends and face each other, their legs stretched out side by side. 

“Would you like a back massage? No pressure,” said Newt, his face flushed pink from the steam. “But I am very good at them. I can see you’ve got some tightness in your trapezius muscle I could release for you. Did you do a lot of repetitive arm and shoulder movements today?”

Credence laughed in surprise. “Oh yes. We had a whole bunch of pastries to finish for special orders, to be delivered tomorrow for Halloween, so I spent almost nine hours in the back room just icing and decorating.” He took a deep breath. “I, um… I really appreciate the offer of a massage. I have to warn you, I have some scars on my back. They… might look kind of alarming, but the… the situation that they resulted from is no longer… um. They are a part of the past that I try not to dwell on,” he finished carefully. “I would understand if you’d rather not look at them, either.”

“Credence,” Newt said softly. “Your scars won’t bother me. Come here.”

And what else could he possibly want to do but obey? Newt’s eyes were gentle, and Credence settled himself between the man’s knees, his worry melting away as Newt’s clever fingers moved over his skin, spreading some sort of slippery, nice-smelling body oil over his shoulders and then firmly working the knots out of his muscles. His hands were incredibly strong, and Credence was happy to surrender himself completely to his expert ministrations, breathing deeply as Newt pressed his knuckles into a tight spot on the back of his neck and held the pressure until the tense muscle relaxed. Then, those incredible fingers worked their way down his back, working into all sorts of tender areas on either side of his spine and making Credence feel as if he were melting into a puddle of bliss.

When Newt had finished, all he was able to manage as a thank you was a slightly sleepy noise that might’ve sounded something like “Guhh.”

Newt chuckled. “That good, huh? How long has it been since you last had a massage? I felt a lot of knots in your back.”

Credence surreptitiously wiped a bit of drool off his chin, shaking himself out of the transcendent stupor he’d sunk into. “Um. I’ve never had one before,” he whispered. “That was so amazing, thank you.”

“Never?” Newt said in dismay. “Well, darling, I certainly will rectify that from now on. If you’d like.” His hand was still absently rubbing strong circles over the back of Credence’s neck, fingers working the delicate muscles at the base of his skull, which were tired from hunching over and staring at the pastry tray for hours on end. His fingers were magic.

“Yes please,” Credence slurred. He could definitely see why people spent their money on this. He would happily hire Newt to massage him as often as his meager savings would allow, just to feel this mind-melting bliss again.

“Excellent.” Newt was gently helping him rotate his shoulders now, rolling them back so his posture straightened up again. “Alright, I’d say we’ve soaked long enough to move on to the fun part.”

With some maneuvering, Newt and Credence ended up seated side by side on the wide rim of the tub, one leg braced on the other edge and a clean bowl of water set on the porcelain between them. Newt showed him how to lather up his skin and then carefully drag the razor up his leg in smooth swipes, rinsing it off in the bowl after each one. Credence watched in wonder as each stripe of pale, hairless skin was revealed on his leg as the thick foam was wiped away by the glide of the razor, slowly getting better at holding it at the correct angle and figuring out how much light pressure was enough to catch all the hairs.

“Ideally, you want as sharp a razor as possible,” Newt was saying. “It may sound counter-intuitive, but a dull razor means you’ll be pressing harder, and you’re more likely to cut yourself. These disposable razors start off nice and sharp, but you have to chuck them in the bin fairly soon when they lose their edge.” He was using a gleaming steel razor, rather than a plastic one, with a sharp blade peeking out of each side so that he could swipe twice before having to rinse. “This one is a double-edged safety razor, and the blades stay sharp a long time,” he explained. “More expensive than the drug-store ones, but cost-effective in the long run. And kind of old-fashioned. I like the efficiency of it.”

Credence grinned and nodded. “I think I will get one too, at some point,” he said softly. He could already tell he was going to want to do this again. He had finished the first leg now, just doing some careful touch-ups around his ankle and knee, which Newt had said were always problem spots. Following Newt’s example, he dunked his leg in the water to rinse off the last of the shaving cream, then watched in amazement as it emerged clean and smooth, the low light glinting off the shine of his wet skin. He felt partially transformed into some otherworldly creature, delicate and alien and beautiful. He giggled. “Wow, that looks nothing like my leg.” 

Newt grinned at him, already almost done with his second one, his cheeks pink and his hair glowing copper in the low light. “It’s a fun change, isn’t it? I like the ritual aspect as well, it feels… satisfying, to take the time to groom yourself, to be clean and new.”

Credence nodded, wide eyed. “I think… you and Graves have that in common,” he said hesitantly, watching Newt’s reaction. 

The man looked over, surprised. “Oh?” His pink lips were softly parted.

“He shaves every morning with a straight razor,” Credence explained, watching Newt’s mouth fall open further.

“You mean… his face?” Newt’s lashes fluttered in amazement. “Goodness, that takes a lot of control. That’s… wow. But of course, it is the most elegantly simple way to shave, if you can teach yourself how to do it.” He appeared lost in thought as he continued to glide the steel up his inner thigh, enraptured by the idea of Graves’ routine. “Did you… did he tell you this?”

“Um.” Credence flushed. “I watched him do it.”

Now Newt was blushing. “Oh! Right, yes… You… I imagine you would’ve, yes.” He was shaving right up to the edge of his tiny speedo, in the delicate crease of his hip.

“I couldn’t look away the whole time, he just made it look so easy,” Credence said dreamily, watching Newt’s practiced motions as he finished shaving his inner thigh and cleaned the razor, wiping away the last of the hairs with a wet cloth. “And then afterward his face was so smooth,” Credence breathed. “And then he put oil on the blade, to keep it from rusting, I think?”

“Yes,” Newt said, sounding a little overwhelmed. “Oh, my. Er, yes, oil is good. Ahem, yes, that sounds…”

“It was so hot,” Credence confessed, gripping the edge of the tub a little tighter for support. Newt looked up, and Credence was drowning in the dilated pupils of his eyes, the rosy flush of his cheeks.

The man cleared his throat, nodding. “I would imagine so,” he whispered, looking flustered and a bit disarmed. “Erm… Credence, I… I am very happy for you,” he said softly. “It sounds like the dilemma you had before has resolved itself, then? The, er… worries you had about your relationship?” His green eyes were glowing with compassion, bright and lovely around the darkness of his aroused pupils. Credence wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt. 

“Yes,” Credence said carefully. “We talked about it, and I told him how I felt. It… you were right. It was so much better not to keep it a secret any longer.”

Newt laid a warm hand on his shoulder for a brief moment. “Credence, that’s wonderful. Good for you for getting it out in the open. That can’t have been easy.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he admitted. “I was so worried he would be disappointed or unhappy, but… Well, actually, I think it brought us closer together.”

“Oh, good,” Newt said softly, his smile a little bit sad around the edges. “So you… you told him about the other person you also had feelings for?” He was fiddling with the head of his razor, carefully unscrewing the blade to clean it separately.

“Yes,” Credence breathed, “and he was so understanding about it. I don’t know how it’s possible that I ended up with such an incredible man. We’ve… um.” His heart was pounding. How was Newt going to feel about all of this? “We’ve agreed that we would both like to try a relationship together, and also… we, well, we’re going to see if the other person is interested too. In both of us.”

Newt’s head snapped up. His eyes were very wide, and his face looked impossibly young, expression raw and vulnerable. “Oh.” He whispered. “Yes, that… Well, I suppose, that makes the most sense. Everyone gets what they want, if the third person agrees.” There was something terribly heartbroken around the set of his mouth, trembling slightly, and he suddenly looked away, refocusing on his razor. “They’re very lucky, whoever they are. To get to have both of you at once,” he said lightly, a crackle of misery in his voice. “Is it someone I know? I think I have a guess.”

Credence stared at him, heart plummeting. “You do? I suppose I’ve been a bit obvious,” he said softly. “I’m… Newt, I am so sorry if I have been making you uncomfortable. Please, know there is no pressure to…”

“No, no, it’s alright. I’m an adult, and you are my friend,” he said, voice still sounding brittle. “I can deal with this, I’m sorry I’m getting a bit… I don’t know. Ignore me,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I am happy for you, darling, no matter what, truly. I just can’t figure out which one of them it is, will you tell me?”

What? Credence tilted his head. “Which one of who?”

“Which sister,” Newt said calmly, putting his razor on the counter to dry and turning back to Credence. His eyes looked a little glassy, but his expression was composed once more. “I thought it was Tori at first, but after today I thought it might be Seraphina. She seems quite taken with you too.”

Credence felt as if he’d been struck dumb. “Wha…”

Newt’s brow furrowed in honest confusion. “Oh, er… Sorry, have I guessed wrong? It is Tori? She clearly cares for you, and they are both so beautiful. I could certainly see how easy it would be to fall for one of them.”

There was a bubbling hysteria filling his chest, a strange giddy laugh choking its way out of his throat. “No,” he gasped. “Newt, I am talking about you.” He couldn’t believe that Newt had imagined something going on between Credence and Tori when earlier on he’d imagined the same in reverse and been sick with jealousy. 

Oh God. Had Newt been jealous just now?

The man was frozen, staring, as Credence got his giggles under control. “I’m sorry, Newt, I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just, I’ve never been attracted to a woman in my life. Unless you count the day you wore that dress. I’ve been pretty much gone on you since I first saw you doing yoga.” The words poured out, somehow helped by the fact that Newt looked completely shattered and Credence was desperate to reassure him. “And then, when I got to know you better, I just couldn’t get you out of my head. I’m… I think about you constantly, and I want to spend every minute with you, talk to you about animals, and cook together, and walk the dogs and… other things,” he finished in a whisper.

To his horror, Newt’s eyes were swimming with tears, his hand over his mouth.

“Oh no,” Credence breathed, “No, Newt, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Oh, I’ve done this all wrong, haven’t I?” His hands fluttered helplessly, settling a tentative palm on Newt’s shoulder. “If you don’t feel the same, I completely understand. You won’t be losing me as a friend, no matter what,” he said, trying to remember what Graves had told him before that had helped put him at ease. “Please don’t feel pressured in the least. It’s… I just wanted you to know that the option is there,” he said gently. “You can take it or not, and there are no expectations. Take all the time you need to decide.”

There, he thought, that pretty much summed it up. Newt’s shoulders were trembling under his hand, and he was leaning a bit toward Credence. Feeling useless and clumsy, he set the bowl of water out of the way and hesitantly wrapped his arms around the man, pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, running his hand soothingly down Newt’s back. “I shouldn’t have sprung this on you when you were so kind to invite me over. I hate that I’ve made you upset. If it would make you feel better, we can just pretend I never said anything,” he whispered, feeling anguished.

“No,” Newt said suddenly, his voice croaky and wet, and then there were arms tight around his ribs, Newt’s face buried in his neck. After a moment, he pulled back, and Credence could finally see the lower half of his face. He was smiling, effervescent and beautiful, eyelashes still wet with tears. “Credence, I’m… No, that won’t be necessary. And I don’t need time to think about it either.” He sniffled, glowing with happiness, and kissed Credence’s cheek. “Darling, I’m… I’m yours. I’ve… Oh, I’ve worked myself into such a froth recently, and I’m afraid it all came pouring out just now. But you haven’t made me upset, love, I’m just a bit in shock.”

Credence carefully cupped Newt’s face and wiped away a tear with his thumb as the man huffed in embarrassment and blushed adorably. “You really didn’t know I was completely smitten with you?” Credence whispered.

Newt’s eyes were wide and awed and honest. “No, darling, I didn’t. Oh, and there I was flirting with Graves while you were… oh, bugger!” He laughed softly, sniffing. “This was a bit of a mess, wasn’t it?”

Credence nodded. “Graves said it was a ridiculous situation. A classic love triangle. You wanted him, he wanted me, I wanted you. Only, then I told him I wanted both of you, and he seemed to like that idea very much.”

“Goodness,” murmured Newt, “Credence, you’re a genius.” He was beaming. “I, er… Well, it is true that I was fixated on Graves at first, but I’ve also been finding it hard not to be quite desperately attracted to you. First I thought it was jealousy, why I couldn’t stop watching you, because I was envious of how happy you and Graves seemed, but then I realized I was just… wishing I… I don’t know what I wanted, but I couldn’t stop thinking how wonderful you were. And then the photoshoot happened, and you came over to my place and you were so sweet with my animals, and once you’d done that I knew I’d missed an opportunity. A… a terribly important one, to snatch you up. You are so special, Credence, so… kind and beautiful and strong, and I’m honored that you feel that way about me.”

Credence’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest as Newt leaned over and kissed him, soft and sweet, his lips as lovely as they’d always looked. They pulled apart to stare at each other for a moment, before Credence tentatively grinned and kissed him again, light and chaste, a bare brush of lips.

“My darling,” Newt murmured delightedly, tangling their legs together in the water. Both of Newt’s were baby-smooth, while Credence had only finished one leg, the other still covered in hair and shaving cream, which was fast swirling away into the bath water. “Oh! You’ve not had the chance to finish, and the water’s getting cold,” Newt said in dismay. “Come here, love, I’ll take care of that for you.”

And then somehow Credence ended up snuggled up against Newt’s side with his leg outstretched, breathing in the clean smell of his skin as the man dexterously shaved every inch of him in half the time it would’ve taken him to do it himself. There were more giggles and several kisses to Newt’s neck as he rinsed Credence off, both of them now smooth as a baby seal. The two of them drained the bath and cleaned up the shaving supplies quickly, bundled in fluffy bathrobes, Newt’s little red speedo re-materializing hung up to dry on one of the bath taps, which made Credence’s brain melt a little bit. He pulled off his own swim trunks under his robe, marveling at the feel of the waistband sliding down the now frictionless length of his legs before wringing it out in the sink and hanging it next to Newt’s. 

Next there was some sort of nice smelling lotion they massaged onto their newly shaven skin, in between bouts of kissing and sweet words, and before Credence knew it they were emerging in a cloud of steam into the apartment, and he felt as if he’d been transformed in more ways than one during the time they’d been shut inside that warm room.

The dogs watched them curiously as they returned to perch on the couch, turning on a nature documentary in the background while Newt got out a small pouch of nail polish.

“Would you like to stick with silver, darling?” he asked, pulling Credence comfortably closer and examining the chipped polish from last weekend. “I’ve got one that’s a close match, I think.”

Somehow, Newt managed to do Credence’s nails without ever spilling a drop, his hands careful and a towel in his lap. Credence, blissfully relaxed, then got to watch him meticulously paint his own nails a deep carmine red, glossy and sexy, his pink lips forming a cute little pout while he concentrated, a tiny furrow between his brows. They waited for the paint to dry, bewildering the animals as to why they weren’t petting them with their hands; they ended up in stitches of laughter when Credence began petting Morgana with his elbow and she looked completely affronted and stalked off into the kitchen. Finally, nails dry, they pulled on some soft sweatpants and burrowed into the couch to watch the TV, soon ending up covered in dogs.

It was late when Credence gathered his things to go home, not wanting to pressure Newt into an overnight just yet. This evening had had a different feel than being with Graves, a different flavor of affection, sugary and delicate, but also blissfully warm and achingly good. He kissed Newt goodnight, lingering at the front door in his sweats and hoodie, unable to stop tasting that soft mouth, clinging to Newt’s slim waist while the man’s elegant fingers stroked through his hair.

“I’ll see you at the party, love. By the way, I need to tell you, I’ll be… I’m going as a woman tomorrow,” Newt said softly, his green eyes wide, watching Credence carefully for his reaction. “Not just as a Halloween costume, as… well, as _me_. I’ll be using my middle name, Artemis. Sometimes that’s who I am, when it feels right.” His cheeks were slightly pink. “Though I mostly do think of myself as a man, I’m also… she’s always a part of me. And sometimes, for a little while, I need to allow myself to be her completely.”

“Oh,” Credence whispered. He’d never known anyone with more than one gender before. But, then again, he’d lived most of his life in a tightly-controlled world without anyone as incredibly fearless as Newt in it; Newt, or Artemis, who honestly embraced all parts of themselves with no doubts or constraints. He couldn't really think of anything more beautiful than that.

“Well, I can’t wait to see you there, as Artemis,” he said reverently, gently kissing the back of Newt’s hand. “I’m guessing you will be wearing red?”

“Yes,” Newt replied shyly, a slow grin spreading across his face, a hint of relief in the smiling lines around his eyes. “Same shade as the nails.”

“Mmm,” Credence breathed, pressing a kiss to Newt’s palm. “Sounds gorgeous.” He mouthed at the pulse beating in his wrist, kissing the soft, delicate skin, and the freckles trailing up his forearm. “Lovely Artemis.”

“Darling,” Newt giggled.

“What, should I let you go?” Credence joked. “Oh, alright, if I must.” Reluctantly, he let Newt’s hand slip from his grasp and headed slowly down the steps, waving. “See you tomorrow. I miss you already.”

Newt’s beautiful laugh followed him into the night, melodic and warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh. Re-reading the massage section made me really want a neck rub. I've been hunched over my computer for too long.
> 
> I've got a lot of feelings about this chapter, but I think I'm too sleepy to put them into words right now. I hope you enjoy.


	15. Cat Pose

As soon as Credence got home, giddy and starry-eyed, he wanted to send Graves a text telling him all about his evening with Newt. But it was nearly midnight, and he wasn’t sure the man would appreciate being woken this late, so he resolved to send one first thing in the morning. He tossed and turned in bed, thrumming with happiness and unable to settle down until the exhaustion of the finally day caught up with him and he into a deep sleep.

The next morning he dragged himself groggily out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom to relieve himself and then jolting in shock at the sensation of his sweatpants sliding down smooth legs. He had nearly forgotten already! Blushing hard, he crept back to the couch and waited until Tina was in her room and Queenie in the shower to yank off his sweats and take a quick photo of his clean-shaven legs curled sideways over the soft blue sheets, long and pale, the corded muscles of his calves and thighs more visible without the hair in the way.

_Good morning ;)_

Feeling bold, he attached the photo to the text and sent it to Graves, hurriedly pulling on a pair of pants and shuffling into the kitchen to make some breakfast, heart hammering.

He checked his phone almost obsessively throughout breakfast, but there was no response, and by the time he was riding the bus to work he was feeling a little miffed. Didn’t Graves want to know about how it had gone with Newt? Was he not interested in the photo? That didn’t seem likely, based on how eager the man had seemed when he heard about Credence’s plans to shave. Maybe he was just busy with work. 

Biting his lip, Credence decided to text him again and then stop thinking about it.

_Guess what? He liked our idea :D_

If Graves was stuck in a meeting, he probably wouldn’t have his phone on, but at least this would be waiting for him afterward. Credence was sure he would know what it meant, and he hoped it would be a nice surprise.

He did his best not to dwell on the lack of response as the day slipped by, kept busy by all the Halloween business and the finishing touches they needed to do on the special orders at the bakery. He nodded distractedly at Andrei when the man showed up to load the pastries in the delivery van, and was relieved to find that he didn’t seem to be treating Credence too much differently than before, still friendly and jovial, just a little more reserved and polite today.

The two of them stared at the tower of boxes loaded into the back of the van in awe. “I can’t believe we really made all of those in the last forty eight hours,” said Credence.

“No kidding. That was a lot,” Andrei rumbled. “You did a great job on all the fine icing,” he said, watching Credence out of the corner of his eye.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Credence replied firmly, sending him a tentative grin.

Andrei clapped him on the shoulder, looking a little more relaxed. “Oh, you are too kind. I will see you in a few hours when these are all dropped off.”

The rest of the afternoon whizzed by, and before he knew it the shop was about to close early and Zoey’s excited shrieks could be heard in the front room.

“Uncle Jake, I’m a kitty!” she hollered ecstatically, as Credence finished washing his hands and shared a fond, wry smile with Mila. “Lookit my tail!”

The bell jingled again as Credence was pulling off his apron and tossing his gloves and hairnet in the trash, followed by a babble of talking and the familiar sound of Tina’s voice. He emerged into the front of the shop to see Zoey perched delightedly on Jacob’s shoulders pretending to lick her paws while he greeted Credence’s cousins, Queenie’s eyes wide as she took in Jacob’s handsome smile, the way he scooped a giggling Zoey off his shoulder automatically as soon as Credence walked in so she could run over and hug him.

Once Credence had been climbed like a tree, Zoey settled in his arms to tell him about her day, her words going by so fast it was hard to catch all of them. “We gotta little pumpkin and it’s a kitty too like me and I did the nose and Mommy did the eyes and Daddy brought candles yesterday to put inside but he said they would be too tall so he went to get more. Why are your nails sparkly?” She had caught sight of his nail polish, her small hands tugging his fingers closer for an inspection. “Can you do mine too?”

“I don’t know, Zo, we’d have to ask your Mom,” Credence said gently.

“No, no, I’m not Zoey today, I’m a kitty. Meow! And we can ask Daddy instead of Mommy because he’s home!”

“That’s great, kitty! Are you glad he’s back?” Credence enthused. Juliet’s husband Kingsley had some sort of important state government position that required him to travel quite a lot, which made the periods of time he was home all the more special, lavishing attention on his wife and daughter. Credence had a shrewd feeling that Zoey knew her dad was more likely to say yes to the nail polish than Juliet. 

“Yes!” She shrieked. “Daddy brought me gel pens and a book made of dark paper and I can see my drawings with the lights off! He showed me how!”

“Really? Glow in the dark pens? That sounds incredible.” Credence looked up. “Where are your parents now?” He blinked. The shop was empty but for Tina, who was munching on a chocolate dragon. She raised her head, looking a bit sheepish.

“Jacob took Queenie on a tour,” she said, her mouth full, “And Juliet and Kingsley are outside talking with Andrei.”

“Tina! Imma kitty! Creedy’s gonna paint my nails. Can I have a piece of your cookie?” Zoey eagerly tugged on Credence’s shirt and pointed imperiously toward Tina, and he obligingly carried her over.

“Alright, just a little piece,” Tina said reluctantly. “You’re going to be getting lots of sugar later, kitty cat.”

“Meow!” Zoey insisted on eating it out of Tina’s hand, rather than using her fingers like a human, and Tina good-naturedly let her take it from her palm.

“Let’s go clean up, kitty! You’ve got some chocolate on your chin,” Credence said, adjusting Zoey on his hip. “Want to see all the finished ones in the back? Remember, they aren’t for eating yet, but they smell good.”

“Yes!” she screeched ecstatically in his ear. “Mrow!”

He carried her squirming into the back room, chuckling as she pretended to bat at his ponytail like it was a cat toy. They were almost to the sink when he caught sight of Queenie and Jacob all the way in the back, deep in conversation, the look on his cousin’s face full of soft, awed delight.

“It’s a way to make people happy, you know?” Jacob was explaining. “My grandma always said food brings community together, and I guess that idea stuck with me. I’m so glad it worked out to have the shop so close to Juliet as well, it wouldn’t be worth it if I weren’t able to stop by and see her as often as I do.”

“You really care about your family, huh?” Queenie said softly, her eyes rapt on his face.

“Definitely,” he said gently, “I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

Credence hefted Zoey up to the sink and turned on the water quietly, helping her wipe the smears of chocolate off her mouth. When he turned the water off, he could hear Queenie’s voice again.

“…did an incredible job keeping us both afloat after our parents passed away. I’m lucky to have her.”

“Oh, I’m real sorry to hear about your folks,” Jacob murmured, “That’s rough.”

“You’re sweet to say so,” he heard Queenie reply softly. “But we’ve got each other. And Credence too, of course. We do alright.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “He’s really benefitted from working here, I can tell. You’ve become a friend and a mentor, not just a boss.”

Credence could picture the exact face Jacob was making, pleased and humble. “That’s very kind of you. I’m so glad to have him, he’s such a great kid. Great man, I should say. It’s been a pleasure to get to know him, and I hope we get to keep him here a nice long time, if he wants.”

Credence and Zoey were making the rounds through the racks of pastries, Zoey occupied by pretending to clean her whiskers, leaning eagerly out of Credence’s arms to sniff each flavor as they passed. It was a routine of sorts, relaxing and calm.

“Say, Jacob, would you like to come for dinner some time?” Queenie was saying, a bubbly excitement in her voice. “I’d hesitate to call myself an expert, in comparison to what you do, but I love to experiment in the kitchen. Do you like strudel?”

“Are you kidding me? I love strudel! Holy smokes, Queenie, I’d love to.” Credence caught another glimpse of them through the pastry racks, Queenie’s hand on Jacob’s arm, both of them lost in each other’s eyes. “I’d like to have you over for a meal too,” he added. “I’d make anything you like, you just tell me your favorites.”

“Oh gee,” she sighed happily, “You’re so thoughtful, honey.” 

Grinning widely, Credence’s instincts told him to carry Zoey back out into the front to give them some privacy. The last thing he heard was Jacob’s lovestruck-sounding “It’s no problem. Anything for you.”

Well. That was fast.

Andrei, Juliet and Kingsley had finally made it into the front room and were chatting with Tina. When Credence re-emerged, Zoey immediately began eyeing the pastry cases from her perch in his arms and cheerily began a long-winded story about a cat who may or may not have also been a pumpkin and liked to jump out and scare people. In the end, inexplicably, the cat got to eat a cookie, according to the narrator. Clearly, sugar was her priority at the moment.

Laughing, Credence caught a glimpse of Juliet’s cell phone pointed in their direction.

“You are clever, little kotek,” chuckled Andrei, “I see you will grow up to be very wise. But I think your parents are hoping you will save your appetite for candy later. What do you think, sound good?”

She giggled back at him, reaching up and demanding to be placed on his shoulders. “Okay, Uncle Andy. I’m gonna get lotsa candy and then Creedy can have some too and you can have a piece and Uncle Jacob’s gonna make dinner with Mommy afterwards and we can read a story and watch Charlie Brown. Did you see Creedy’s sparkly nails? He said he would paint mine too.”

Credence smiled, well-versed in her rapid rambling way of talking. “If your parents say okay,” he clarified in fond exasperation.

She was busily petting Andrei’s beard. “Daddy, can I have sparkly nails?” she asked casually, resting her little chin on Andrei’s head.

Kingsley looked over from his conversation with Tina, caught off guard. “I don’t see why not, sweetie. As long as you are careful not to spill the polish… Um, Jules?”

Juliet raised an eyebrow. “I think you’ve already given her a yes, honey. But, alright, that’s fine. I’ve got some non-toxic ones at home we can use, I was going to wait and make them a surprise but I think tonight would be a great time to try them out, huh Zo?”

“Yay!” she hollered. “Yes, let’s try them now! And Creedy’s gonna paint them for me! He’s good at painting.”

“He sure is, sweetie,” said Juliet indulgently. “But first we’re going to the library, remember? The haunted house? Everybody’s coming with us, to make sure Daddy doesn’t get scared by the ghosts.”

“Daddy!” Zoey giggled, drumming her little feet on Andrei’s broad chest. “That’s silly! They aren’t really ghosts, they’re just the librarians.”

Juliet cut smoothly over Kingsley’s sputtered reply. “Where on earth is my brother? He texted me he was all done closing up fifteen minutes ago.”

“Ah,” hedged Credence. “He’s, um… giving Queenie a tour. Since she’s never seen the back room before.” He stifled a grin, watching Tina’s eyes widen.

“Really? Surely the back room doesn’t take that long to explain. Should we go get them, let them know we’re ready to go?” Juliet asked, her brow furrowed.

“I’d say we should give it another minute or two,” Credence said conspiratorially, “let them have a chance to meet properly. They seemed quite happy back there.”

Juliet’s confusion cleared and a slow smile spread across her face in understanding. “Well, then we ought to let them… bond.” She winked at Credence, coming over to give him a hug. “Hello, by the way, I didn’t really get a chance to greet you before. How was your week?”

He bit his lip, unsure how to sum it up. “Um. Complicated, but good on the whole?” he managed. If they were alone in her office he would be telling her everything, but this wasn’t the place for it. Luckily, she understood.

“I’m glad,” she said, grinning. “I look forward to hearing about it at our next session.”

As he nodded, Credence caught sight of Queenie and Jacob finally emerging from the back room, Queenie flushed and beaming and Jacob looking at her like he couldn’t believe she was real.

“Oho,” rumbled Andrei, bouncing Zoey on his shoulders, and Juliet shushed him playfully.

“Jacob, are we ready to go?” Juliet asked, her eyes flicking delightedly between the two of them.

“Yes, I believe so,” Jacob said distractedly, reaching for his coat without really looking away from Queenie.

“Alright,” Juliet said in amusement, “Onward, then!”

The walk to the library was a hilarious mix of watching Jacob and Queenie ahead of him and listening to Zoey’s enthusiastic recount of a project she was doing in kindergarten, and by the time they had walked the six blocks Credence was pleasantly warm both from the exertion and from a glowing feeling of happiness. Entering the library itself was like stepping into a charming madhouse of excited kids, talking and laughing and running through the bookshelf maze and then squealing when they found the exit and got to take a handful of candy. It was the sort of thing that shy five-year-old Credence would have secretly wanted to try, but would’ve been too scared to do without a buddy.

Luckily, Zoey had no such hang-ups. Imperiously, she directed Andrei to set her down and immediately ran off to join a group of kids solving a set of puzzles, overseen by a librarian wearing a bedsheet like a toga, her face painted white with dark shadows under her eyes. The adults joined the milling crowd of parents that had congregated by the hot cider, waiting patiently and chatting while Zoey flitted from station to station, solving the maze without any help but begging her Dad to hold her hand through the haunted house. Credence ended up going with them, amused and impressed by the effort the librarians had gone to in order to transform the reading room into a cobweb-strewn mausoleum full of ghosts and zombies. He pulled out his phone and got an adorable picture of Zoey shyly tugging on one of the zombies’ hands, her head tilted in curiosity.

“Aren’t you Miss Sarah, who does story time?” she asked, all wide innocent brown eyes.

The zombie couldn’t help but break character, pausing her eerie moaning to grin down at Zoey. “Yes, that’s me, sweetie. Are you coming next week? We’re reading Wind in the Willows.”

This led to several minutes of excited discussion about whether toads really did ride motorcars, and did they drive them underwater too? Then Zoey spotted several of her friends from school and was off again to the coloring corner to decorate a picture of a pumpkin. It became a cat, of course.

By the time an hour had gone by, Zoey had worn herself out, the candy she’d eaten after the maze having burned through her system already. She ended up sleepily draped in Kingsley’s arms while the rest of them gathered their coats, Juliet showing Andrei some pictures on her phone. For the past fifteen minutes, Tina and Credence had been sipping cider and watching Queenie tell Jacob about her fashion design work, his eyes glowing as he watched her animated explanation of her work process, and now Tina grinned and leaned over to whisper in Credence’s ear.

“Did you see this coming?” she murmured.

Beaming, Credence shook his head. “No, but in retrospect it’s not surprising,” he whispered. “He’s an artist, a kindred spirit. Plus he’s charming without even trying. He's just so kind.”

Tina snickered. “ _And_ he was genuinely happy to listen to her talk about hems and pleating for fifteen minutes straight.” They shared a grin as they slipped out into the crisp night air, Tina linking her arm through his and cuddling close against the cold. “She’s going to want to hang on to him for sure.”

They split into two cars when they got back to the bakery, the three Goldsteins having been firmly invited for dinner by a smirking Juliet and a beaming Jacob, who rode in the back seat with Queenie. They caravanned to Juliet and Kingsley’s house, passing roving groups of kids in costume and pulling up in front of a cozy little bungalow with a small pumpkin on the front step carved to look like a cat’s face.

When they had piled out of the car, Zoey wasted no time in pulling Credence over to show him the parts she had carved, her excitement having renewed her energy on the ride over. While Jacob and Juliet put the finishing touches on dinner with Queenie eagerly looking on, Credence was conscripted to carefully paint Zoey’s tiny fingernails pale glittery pink, which she delighted in showing everyone afterward. Andrei chuckled as he watched Credence trying to convince Zoey to wait until the paint had dried to pick anything up with her fingers, her cheeks ballooning out comically as she followed his example and blew on the wet polish to try and speed up the process.

By the time dinner was ready, there was a smear of glittering pink on Zoey’s cheek and another one on Credence’s jeans, but the paint had dried on her nails and she was ecstatically staring at them while she ate, beaming at Credence, who she’d insisted be placed next to her at the table. The food was incredible, as was always the case when any of the Kowalskis was involved in cooking, and the evening felt luminously perfect. Andrei had good-naturedly agreed to be on door duty by virtue of sitting in the chair closest to the living room, getting up periodically to greet trick-or-treaters with his booming laugh and a ready bowl of candy.

Despite his eagerness to go to the party later, Credence found himself wishing they didn’t have to leave the comfortable ease of Juliet’s house, the relaxed conversation and friendly closeness. After dinner, Zoey and her dad had gone out to trick-or-treat for a short while, and then they had all re-congregated in the living room, where Zoey had curled up with Credence and a book on the couch, demanding that her father sit close by too. They took turns reading to her while Juliet looked on, a little misty-eyed, her hand stroking absently over the swell of her stomach while she talked quietly with Tina. Jacob and Queenie were ensconced in the loveseat, still chatting animatedly, and it seemed that Queenie was just as reluctant to leave when 7:30 came around as Credence was.

“Well, it has been so lovely to get to know you better,” he could hear her murmuring to Jacob while Kingsley hoisted a sleepily protesting Zoey off of Credence’s lap. “I really… I feel I could talk to you for hours more. I don’t suppose… Would you like to come with us? I’m sure my friend wouldn’t mind if I brought a plus-one. The party should be marvelous, and we have room in our car!”

“Oh, gee,” Jacob breathed. “Are you sure?”

“Go on, little brother,” laughed Juliet, “a beautiful woman has just asked you to escort her for the evening, don’t leave her hanging!”

“Well, yes, I’d love to,” said Jacob in a rush, “But I don’t have a costume.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” reassured Queenie, at the same time as Juliet said, “Just wear your nicest suit, you can be any number of book characters.”

There followed an excited flurry of preparations as the four of them said their goodbyes to Kingsley, Juliet, and Andrei, who was looking a little wistful.

“You’d be welcome to come too, of course,” Queenie said hurriedly, but the man shook his head.

“Ah, that’s alright. I would barely fit in your nice little car, and Kotek and I have plans to watch Charlie Brown before bedtime.” His dark eyes lingered on Credence. “You have fun, though,” he said quietly, and Credence bit his lip and nodded.

With one last call of “Goodnight!” they were out the door and piling back into Tina’s Honda, slipping through the dark city to pick up Jacob’s suit from his apartment over the bakery, and then heading home and pulling into their familiar parking spot in the garage. It was getting less and less likely that they would make it to the party on time, but nobody seemed too worried about it.

“Oh, you know,” said Tina easily as they hurried to the elevators, “Eight o’clock is just when the music starts. They’ll be going long past midnight, if I know Tori at all. She’s got a bit of a wild side, and an exhausting amount of stamina.”

“Wait until you see her house!” giggled Queenie, her arm looped through Jacob’s elbow. “She and her sister live in a gorgeous old mansion, it’s perfect for parties like this. Big and beautiful and a little spooky.”

They still hurried their preparations once they got inside the apartment, Credence packing a bag with a change of clothes and his toothbrush and razor, just in case, and then following Queenie into her room where his costume was laid out on the bed. He tugged it on behind her flower-patterned changing screen, delighting at the smooth slide of his leggings up over his thighs. Once they were both dressed, she sat him down at her vanity table and did his make-up, affording him a chance to see her costume for the first time. She’d gone retro; in perfect keeping with her short curly bob, she was dressed in a shimmering gold flapper dress that showed off her slim defined arms, a sequined headband with a beautifully decorated mask and silk gloves waiting on the bed to complete the costume. When the finishing touches had been applied to their make-up, the two of them impulsively decided to straighten Credence’s hair, after which he couldn’t stop running his fingers through the perfect glossy curtain of it.

When they emerged, Queenie tugging on a pair of heels and Credence smoothing down his tunic, they were greeted with an appreciative whistle from a smartly-dressed Jacob and a sound of amazement from Tina, who was in a sleeveless black skintight outfit with her hair slicked back. She looked amazing, but Credence wasn’t sure who she was dressed as.

“Trinity, from The Matrix,” she explained, sliding on a pair of sunglasses and grinning at him. “Bambi, we’ll have to watch that movie with you soon, it’s one of my favorites. Some incredibly inventive filming techniques that emphasize the impeccable fight choreography.” Credence nodded in understanding. That sounded exactly like something Tina would like, although he didn’t quite understand why she needed sunglasses at night.

“You’re going to take those off to drive, right?” he asked teasingly, and she threw back her head and laughed.

By happy coincidence, Jacob’s suit was of a slightly old-fashioned cut, and he and Queenie looked absolutely perfect together, a stunning vintage couple. She handed him a simple gold flower that matched her dress, pinning it neatly to his lapel, and then all of a sudden they were ready to leave.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived at the house, music and light spilling out onto the well-kept lawn and warming the moonlit hedges around the sides of the property. It was a grand, sprawling building with a handsome oak front door which they knocked on carefully, shivering slightly in the cold and staring up at the glowing pumpkin lanterns hanging from the trees on either side of the walkway. The door swung open to reveal Tori, dressed as Wonder Woman, her wrist guards glinting in the light of the porch lamp.

“Goldsteins! You’re here!” she crowed, “Come in, come in! Ooh, hello, and you brought a friend!” she said, shaking hands with Jacob. “Welcome! Queenie, these costumes all look so amazing. You’ve outdone yourself! Come on in, you can put coats and bags in the coat room over here, and we’ve got lots of food, come eat something!” She shepherded them easily through the warmth of the living room, passing a group of people chatting on the couch, and led them through a doorway into the gleaming kitchen. “Help yourself to anything you like! Drinks are in the fridge, food is all laid out over there, and right through here is the dancing!” she said excitedly. 

It became clear immediately that the bulk of the party was going on in the back of the house. The hallway leading off the kitchen opened up into an airy space that seemed to be part family room part ballroom, a tall fireplace at one end surrounded by comfortable looking chairs, and a makeshift bar at the other end with several tall stools occupied by chattering guests. The room was quite full, bright with colorful costumes and stuffy with body heat, although a tantalizing breeze was coming from the glass doors at the back where it appeared the party had spilled outside. Credence caught a glimpse of a glass-walled conservatory beyond, lined with plants that were glittering with lights, and finally another set of doors that must lead out into the famous garden.

The live band was playing some sort of sultry upbeat dance music with a pleasantly catchy rhythm, and about a third of the room had become a dance floor. Credence blushed a little when he saw how tightly one costumed guest was holding her partner, their scantily clad bodies pressed skin to skin and still somehow looking graceful as they surged together to the music.

“Tori,” Credence said hesitantly, “is Graves here already?” He was half hoping the man would want to dance with him, half terrified to try it. Maybe they could find Newt, and all three of them would dance together. Credence himself was not exactly a dancer, but he had to admit to himself that the couples on the floor looked like they were having a wonderful time, wrapped around each other like that.

“Haven’t seen him yet,” she said, waving a hand distractedly. “But he said he was coming. Might’ve slipped past me to hide from the noise upstairs, the grump.”

Credence frowned. He was starting to wonder if something was wrong, if there was some reason he hadn’t heard anything from the man all day. But first… He had caught sight of a flash of red hair in the crowd, and he turned back to Tina, opening his mouth to ask if she minded being abandoned.

“Go on,” Tina said softly, “It’s alright. I know we said we’d stick together, but that was before you had somebody to… well… I’m going to go look for Sera. Maybe I’ll see you on the dance floor.”

Beaming at her, he thanked Tori and went winding through the sea of bodies, squeezing past a woman dressed as a southern belle in an enormous hoop skirt and detouring around the armchairs to a cluster of people over by the fireplace.

There. Newt was stunning in red, swathed in a high-necked sleeveless gown with a fitted bodice, looking feminine and elegant. Credence was a little bit shocked by how attracted he was to her as a woman, drinking in the small pert breasts and narrow waist cinched in above the curve of her hips and those long, long legs bared by a deep slit up the side of her skirt. The fox ears perched over her long flowing copper wig made her look both adorable and sexy, and watching her purse her lips to sip from her champagne glass was making his cock rapidly harden in his tights. 

Credence’s mouth went dry, feeling another throb of arousal as she brushed her hair over her freckled shoulder with one pale, long-fingered hand. He had never had a reaction like this to a woman before. On the other hand, he supposed this was different than simply passing a pretty girl on the street - this was Newt. Or, rather, Artemis, and she was special. He already had feelings for her, he knew her, he wanted her inside and out.

She was surrounded by a cluster of excited people who all seemed to be talking at once, and the only sign of her being a little overwhelmed was the fact she was now twisting her fingers fitfully around the stem of her champagne glass, nodding automatically at what someone was saying, her eyes wide and slightly glazed as she glanced between the people around her. It looked like she was having trouble finding an opening to contribute to the conversation but too polite to leave, a position Credence had definitely been in before.

Credence slipped closer, watching fondly as Artemis’ eyes lit up when she saw him. Trying to avoid bumping too many elbows, he fought his way to her side, taking her hand in his and brushing a kiss over the back. Her nails were red and glossy, and he beamed at her.

“Hello, Artemis,” he breathed, heart pounding as she pressed close and kissed his cheek, her long hair brushing his bare shoulder.

“Darling!” she said, voice soft with delight, twining their fingers together. He nodded to her conversation partners, suddenly noticing their eyes on him.

“Pardon my interruption. You all look amazing,” he said politely. Indeed they did. He was surrounded by what he thought were several elaborately dressed drag queens, based on the style of their makeup, and a number of other richly costumed guests. “I don’t mean to butt in, but I’m afraid I have come to steal Artemis away,” he declared, wrapping an arm around her slim waist, rewarded with a soft giggle. “Will you dance with me, beautiful?”

She nodded, smiling shyly, which prompted a whoop and several “Awws” from someone else in the group. “Hey, let’s all go dance!” came a yell, and Credence found himself clinging to Artemis as they were swept along to the dance floor in an enthusiastic tidal wave of people, his heart fluttering when she wrapped her strong arms around his shoulders. The music was fast and pumping, and there was hardly any space to move in the press of people, which luckily made it easy to look like he knew what he was doing. Credence followed the example of everyone around him and just sort of happily bounced and swayed with the pulse of the crowd, ecstatic to be so close to Artemis and have her body pressed fully against his, moving and sliding in sync together. She threw her head back, laughing, her eyes green and glowing, and he lost himself in the smell of her perfume and the way her hips moved sinuously against his.

When the song eventually switched to something slower, he wound his arms tighter around her waist, his heart hammering as she pressed their foreheads together and then kissed him softly, tasting of spearmint and champagne. They had managed to drift off into the corner of the room, at the edge of the dancing, where there was a little more breathing space, which meant they could kiss more heatedly without being in danger of bumping anybody. It also meant everybody could see them.

“Aw, look,” someone called out, “Artemis caught herself a stag. Yeah, girl!”

They stopped kissing, Credence’s face flaming with a blush, and she pulled him close, sheltering him from view behind the long curtain of her hair, her fingers gently toying with the antlers on Credence’s head. “Hmm. I suppose I am goddess of the hunt, after all. It is rather appropriate.”

He ran his hands down her back, feeling the stiff boning of her corset under the smooth material of her dress. “I agree completely,” he murmured. It was, in fact, more appropriate than she even knew. The minute he’d seen her, he’d been ensnared, pierced by an arrow through the heart. And now here he was, a willing supplicant at her altar. “You are a goddess. I worship you.”

She pulled back in surprise. “Credence,” she breathed softly.

“It’s true,” he said, shrugging helplessly.

Her eyes were wide and gentle, ringed with long dark lashes. “Oh, darling.”

She was smiling, and he couldn’t help but kiss her again, uncaring that everyone was watching, unconcerned with the fact that their two shades of lipstick were getting a bit muddled up. The music switched tempo again to something catchy and dance-able, and they stopped necking to re-join the crowd, exhausting themselves giddily in the happy mass of people for several more songs before they began to get sweaty and thirsty and Credence started to feel like maybe he ought to take off his antler crown. He was worried about poking somebody with it by accident.

They wandered back toward the kitchen, where Artemis tugged him over to the open window and breathed in welcome lungfuls of night air. Credence went to fetch them both glasses of ice water, and when he returned he found that Tori had reappeared with a clutch of friends and had scooped Artemis into the conversation, Tori’s arm around her shoulders.

“… one of my beautiful models for the series! It’s opening next month at the Blind Pig, I can’t wait. If you’d like to have a look, the prints I have framed so far are in my workroom!”

This was met with a great deal of enthusiasm, which meant that Tori immediately declared a tour upstairs to be in order. “Oh! And Credence, darling, there you are! I was just telling everyone about the show, come along and see the first few prints, they’ll look so much better than the little proofs I gave you, way bigger!”

Smiling softly, Credence handed Artemis her glass. “Sounds excellent,” he said to Tori. “Lead the way.”

Beaming, she led them back through the living room and up the grand set of stairs to a landing with two long, carpeted hallways branching off in either direction, reciting as she went, “Here we are… bedroom, bedroom, music room, Sera’s office, my darkroom, aaand… welcome to the workroom!”

The space was taken up mostly by a large table with a long sliding mat-cutter. Framing supplies and scraps of mat board were piled on top, and several metal frame kits were waiting to be assembled, leaning against the far wall. Most strikingly, however, around the room’s bare white walls were hung a series of large prints, the colors rich and glossy and the black of the background pure and deep. Credence didn’t know much about photography, but he could tell these were very, very nice.

The crowd made appropriate noises of appreciation, and Credence himself was fascinated by the variety of the subjects in the portraits. There were feminine-looking men and masculine-looking women, and beautiful people whose gender was as floaty and free as a cloud. There was, in fact, one person wearing a cloud, or at least an oversized sweater that was made of white puffy balls of cotton, making them look as if they were some sort of fashionable human marshmallow. It mostly looked like it would be incredibly snuggly.

And then he got around to the picture of himself curled up in Newt’s arms, lying on the couch, and although it felt jarringly surreal to see the familiar image in a new context, he could see Tori’s vision now. It fit in with the eclectic feel of the series, showcasing the personality of each subject differently and highlighting what was beautiful about them in the most genuine way possible. Newt in the photo was allowing himself to be vulnerable, staring down at Credence’s relaxed features in wonder while Credence clung to him in return.

“Aw,” said one of Tori’s friends. “That one’s so cute. I love it. Oh, that’s you two, isn’t it?”

Credence beamed when Artemis said, “Yes indeed,” her hand sliding possessively around Credence’s waist as she leaned to get a closer look. “Tori, these are incredible. You have a knack for capturing more than just a pose, you’ve somehow caught more of me… of my state of mind… than I was even aware of at the time.”

Tori grinned. “Artemis, darling, you are too sweet.” She looked a little surprised to see the two of them pressed so close, but she hid it well, winking at Credence and sidling a little nearer while the rest of the group moved on to the next image. “I had a feeling, watching you two at that shoot, that you’d have great chemistry. Is this what I think it is?” Tori whispered. “What about mister grumpy?”

Credence huffed at her nickname for Graves. “Oh, we won’t be leaving him lonely, don’t worry,” he said, watching Artemis grin, surprising himself with how confident he sounded. Delight and disbelief were chasing each other across Tori’s face as she raised an impressed eyebrow.

“Damn, Credence! All three of you are…? Wow, you’ve got a hot sandwich going on there, that’s for sure. I know I’d like to take a bite,” she teased, and he giggled helplessly, thankful for the makeup hiding his hot blush. Artemis was smiling shyly, snuggled against his side, smoothing a proprietary hand over his chest.

“I don’t think sharing is on the table,” he said, mock-apologetically, “But if you want a literal sandwich, I’d be happy to make you one with very spicy mustard. I can promise it will be hot.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, Credence, you are too darn cute. Well, good luck to all three of you. Graves will have no excuse to be so crabby if he’s got both of you sweethearts giving him some sugar.” She waggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly, slipping after her friends to continue the tour. 

The group was examining the shots of Credence now, the portrait of him on the couch smiling yearningly at the camera, followed by the close-up of his face cupped in Queenie’s gentle hand. For some reason, he didn’t mind them all looking, despite how personal the images felt. Tori’s friends were smiling, and saying nice things, and anyway nothing could hurt him right now, not with Artemis pressed against him and joy beating in his heart. Across the room, he could see a gorgeous shot of Newt twirling in his dress, captured mid-swirl, the blue silk floating around his muscular legs and an uninhibited smile on his face.

Feeling giddy and light, Credence dallied behind when the tour left the room and took off his antler crown, setting it carefully atop Tori’s file cabinet of past projects, each drawer labeled by year in careful handwriting. Now he would just have to remember to come back for it later. 

“I don’t want to accidentally poke someone in the eye with that, if we go back to dancing,” he explained to Artemis, who slid her arms luxuriously around his neck. In her high heels, she was an inch or so taller than he was, the perfect height to kiss if he drew himself up slightly on his toes. 

“Mmm… good idea,” she murmured. The soft curves of her breasts pressed against him as they kissed, her clever fingers running through his hair in between bouts of warm wet exploration. He tentatively slid his hands down her waist to cup her fantastic ass, asking quietly to make sure that was alright. 

“Oh, darling, yes,” she answered, “although… I may have a bit of a… a _compressed_ situation if we go much further, you’re making me a little…” she bit his ear lightly, “… hot and bothered.”

He nuzzled her neck, kissing her throat. “You’re always hot,” he breathed, reveling in the muscular curve of her ass under his hands and the press of her corset against his stomach. “But I don’t want to be a bother.”

She laughed softly. “I don’t think that’s what the expression means, pet.” She guided his chin up to kiss him again, his curious hands now sliding up her ribs to palm her breasts, soft and bouncy and warm with body heat. “You could never be a bother. But perhaps we should wait to do anything more serious until we have some privacy.” She nuzzled him once more, indulgently, then pulled back, her make-up slightly smeared. “Oh dear. And we’d better go freshen up. I’ve gotten my lipstick all over you, love.”

Giggling, they made their way to the upstairs bathroom, where Artemis tenderly wiped Credence’s face with a damp tissue and he tried his best to fix her make-up in return. She had her tube of lipstick tucked inside her bra, and after a final check in the mirror and a fresh application of glossy red to her lips, they both were presentable enough to venture back downstairs. 

Credence felt as if he was floating as he interlaced their fingers, beaming, and escorted her out of the bathroom, unable to take his eyes off her.

God, how had he gotten so lucky?

Now he just needed to figure out where Graves had disappeared to, and everything would be complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we finally get to the party! But there's still gonna be a bit more drama before it all smooths out (because I apparently can't resist drawing things out forever). 
> 
> I had so much fun writing the meet-cute between Jacob and Queenie. I was tempted to make that a whole lot longer, but this fic is already soooo long as it is. I hope you fellow Jacob/Queenie fans enjoyed it :)
> 
> I am so grateful for all of your feedback, your comments and kudos. They make me so happy.


	16. Warrior I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely people,  
> This fic has mostly been a happy smutty fluff-ball (with some angsty flashbacks), at least thus far. So, I wanted to warn you that things are going to take a slightly more serious turn in this chapter but the story is still going to end happily (and with lots of sex), I promise! 
> 
> A heads-up: this chapter contains a description of a panic attack, as well as a non-con kiss and a briefly described act of violence. If it helps, you can be assured the perpetrating character isn't gonna get away with it.

Credence’s heart was still fluttering joyfully in his throat as he and Artemis descended into the living room, where the thrum of the dancing reverberated faintly through the wood floors. He spotted Queenie and Jacob chatting with Andromeda from the art studio, her soft grey curls cascading from under a witch’s hat. On the other side of the room, he thought he saw the other dark haired painter with the glasses perched happily on the couch next to the tall blonde guy from their yoga class, his grey eyes keenly interested as he watched the smaller man talk. Grinning in surprise, Credence pulled Artemis gently closer and made a beeline for Queenie.

“Hi,” he said, unable to stop beaming. “Nice to see you again, Andromeda. Everyone, this is Artemis. You may have met her before as Newt.” He glanced over at her. “Was that okay to say?”

She smiled shyly at him, squeezing their interlaced hands. “Yes, that was just fine, darling.” Her voice was lovely and melodic, perhaps a little higher and softer than usual. “How are you all enjoying the party?”

“Oh, it is wonderful!” gushed Queenie. “Jacob and I just got to see the garden, all those twinkly lights! And everybody looks great dressed up, of course. Case in point, your gown is gorgeous!”

Artemis lit up at Queenie’s enthusiasm, her smile widening in surprise as Jacob nodded emphatically. “Love the fox ears, too. It’s a great concept. You’re a vixen!”

“Yes, exactly,” Artemis said excitedly. “I’m so happy somebody got it. The double meaning… I mean, I… I liked the pun.”

Jacob was nodding. “A lady fox and a foxy lady.”

Andromeda smiled in understanding. “Ah! Yes, you’ve got both meanings covered quite well. You’re beautiful.”

Artemis, blushing and pleased, pressed closer into Credence’s side, and he couldn’t help but kiss her cheek.

“Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask how your dogs are doing,” said Queenie.

“That’s right,” Jacob put in, brow furrowing, “Credence mentioned one of them was sick. Are they doing better now?”

“Goodness, that is so kind of you to ask,” breathed Artemis, completely charmed. “Yes, Pickett had a bit of a stomach upset. He’s all better, probably feeling a bit abandoned since I’m not at home, but in good health otherwise.”

“Aw,” cooed Andromeda, “what kind of dog is he?”

“He’s a mix, but I suspect he’s got some Italian Greyhound in him,” explained Artemis. “He was the smallest in his litter, and he’s always been a little anxious. I probably baby him a bit too much; the other dogs would likely accuse me of favoritism…” Credence had let go of her to dig his phone out of the side of his boot.

“Here,” he said breathlessly, swiping to the photo of Pickett under his blanket and prompting a chorus of appreciative sounds in response.

“Oh, he’s so adorable,” squealed Queenie.

Artemis gladly began to tell the rest of them the story of Pickett’s rescue, how he had been abandoned as a puppy and taken in by the shelter, but Credence was distracted, his smile fading, as he looked down at the blank screen of his phone, no new text notifications in sight. Why hadn’t Graves written to him, and why wasn’t he at the party? This really didn’t seem like him, to ignore a text for so long, especially one that had such important news. At least, Credence felt that it was important. Maybe Graves didn’t agree. Had he changed his mind? Did he no longer want to be in a relationship with both Credence and Newt?

Biting his lip, Credence slid his phone back into his boot, tuning back into the conversation as Andromeda began to describe her own dogs. When there was a convenient pause, everyone laughing, Credence put his hand on Artemis’ waist.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going to go see if I can find Graves.”

Her eyes lit up, and she nodded at him eagerly. “I’ll look for you two later,” she said with a private smile that Credence did his best to return. 

Inside, he was starting to worry. He wound his way through the throngs of people, feeling as if his hopes were on the verge of shattering. What if Graves really had changed his mind, and wasn’t sure how to break the news? Was that what this silence was about? Newt was already on board, there was no backing out now, even if Credence wanted to. Which he didn’t, of course. The taste of being with both Newt and Artemis that he’d been given was enough to have him craving more; there was no way he could ever break it off.

Thrumming with concern and confusion, he searched the crowd, despairing when he realized he didn’t even know what Graves was dressed as. He pulled out his phone, not caring if three unanswered texts in a row came off as needy.

_Are you here at the party? Can’t find you, what are you wearing?_

Credence bit his lip, scanning the dance floor but unable to see much other than a whirl of colors and skin. He slipped out into the conservatory and then into the gardens, which were indeed lovely and magical and full of twinkly lights, but showed no more sign of Graves than the inside of the house. 

At last, he wandered further through the crowded patio and found himself on the edge of the pool, thronging with overheated guests getting a bit of fresh air and people who apparently didn’t mind getting their costumes wet. Tori was seated on the edge, her high-heeled red and gold boots on the tile beside her and her feet dangling in the hot water, and Credence hurried over to her, careful not to slip on the wet pavement.

“Credence!” she said happily, sounding a little bit tipsy, the consonants of his name rolling off her tongue more sluggishly than usual. “Darling! Do you want to put your feet in the pool? It’s such a relief after all that dancing,” she sighed. A man dressed as some sort of water nymph surfaced close by, swimming over to take a sip from his drink, which was set on the tiles.

“Hear hear,” said a woman dressed as a vampire with her feet in the shallow end, a pair of spiky high heels dangling from her hand.

“Actually, Tori, I was wondering if you’d seen Graves?” Credence said, trying not to sound anxious and impatient. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Graves?” the woman at the shallow end of the pool asked sharply. “The boss-man actually showed up?” She huffed out an astonished laugh. “I thought he hated wearing costumes. And loud music, and indignity. And fun.”

“Uhm,” said Credence uncertainly. “Well, he said he was coming.”

Tori looked up at him blearily. Upon closer inspection, she appeared to be rather more inebriated than he had first thought. “Sweetie, I’m sure he’ll show up, if only just to grab you for a smooch and go hide upstairs from all the ruckus. He doesn’t like mess, or chaos, but I know he likes you.” She aimed a slightly swaying finger to bop him on the nose, the guy in the water making a keenly interested noise of surprise.

“Oh, really?” he said eagerly. “Are you serious? Graves actually let his walls down enough to get himself a boyfriend?” He leaned his elbow on the edge of the pool.

“And aren’t you a cutie, too,” said the vampire. “Lopez, I guess that means I owe you twenty bucks.”

A woman sitting in one of the lawn chairs behind them made a noise of satisfaction, raising her drink in a salute. “Ha! I knew he had to have a soft side underneath that hard-assed business persona. Pay up, Fontaine. You and Weiss are a pair of cynics.”

Credence wasn’t sure what to say to that, but Tori had given him an idea. “Um. I’ll see you later. I’m just going to keep looking,” he said, heading back through the garden followed by a teasing cry of “No, come back and tell us more! Who are you? How did you meet?”

The conservatory was quieter than he remembered, and as he wound his way through the ballroom he realized it was because the band was taking a break, their singer sipping some water in the corner while the musicians stretched and got some food. Credence did his best not to step on anybody’s feet as he shouldered his way through the crowd and found the stairs again, catching sight of Queenie and Jacob kissing softly in the living room and quickly averting his eyes with a blush. Artemis was nowhere to be seen.

The stairs were carpeted, and Credence’s footsteps made no sound as he ascended to the second floor, unsure where to start looking. If Graves really was hiding out from all the people up here, where would he go? Credence double-checked, but there was still nothing new on his phone. Maybe he wasn’t even here.

Feeling discouraged but stubbornly resolute, Credence began to poke his head in each of the doors in the hallway, remembering Tori’s voice in his head. _Bedroom, bedroom, music room, Sera’s office, my darkroom, and…_ the workroom with the prints on the wall. None of them yielded Graves, although the music room was fascinating, a large piano and several guitars laid out amid bookshelves of old records and binders of sheet music. The darkroom next door smelled strongly of chemicals, and Credence hesitated to go in any further in case he was damaging Tori’s film somehow. 

Sera’s office was elegant and professional, all dark polished wood and tidy glass cases of knickknacks amid shelves of thick books and stacks of paper. Her desk had a gorgeous figurine of an eagle on it next to a pad of fancy letterhead stationary and an old-fashioned fountain pen monogrammed with her initials. Her gleaming silver computer was powered off, a slim red flash drive still stuck in the USB port labeled ‘Obscurus’. Whatever that meant.

Sighing, Credence went back into the hall and tried the other direction, peeking into the rooms on the other side of the stairs. There were two more bedrooms, a large closet full of linens, and finally a small library, cozy and smelling of dust and books, dimly lit by the moonlight coming in from a large bay window. Credence was about to turn and leave when he thought he saw a flicker of movement in the shadows by the corner, partially hidden by one of the shelves, a flutter of motion in the darkness. Heart pounding, he reached over and turned on a lamp sitting on a small table in between two cushy chairs, eyes fixed on the figure standing just out of view, who whipped around at the click of the light.

“Graves?” The man stepped out from behind the bookshelf, and Credence breathed out a gusty sigh of relief. “Oh, it is you! I wasn’t sure for a moment there.”

But it was clearly Graves, dressed all in black with a mask over his face and hair, the familiar shape of his lips and jaw and the warm golden brown of his eyes recognizable underneath the costume.

“Why are you hiding up here in the dark? Was the party too loud for you?” Credence came closer, noting that Graves had gloves on, soft black leather that for some reason made Credence’s mouth feel dry.

“Yes,” the man answered after an odd pause of silence. “Far too loud. I hate parties,” he said, his voice a bit raspy.

“Oh,” Credence breathed, “I’m sorry about that.” He didn’t really know why he was apologizing, just that it seemed his sudden appearance had made Graves uncomfortable. His eyes were guarded as he watched Credence and his body was stiff, and Credence couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. “It’s nice and quiet up here, though,” he murmured, taking another few steps until he could slide his arms around the man’s waist, kissing him softly on the cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Graves said, though his expression still looked quite odd. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and one of his hands rested lightly on Credence’s back, but his dark eyes were distant and unfamiliar.

“Oh, good,” Credence said, with a hint of confusion. “I like your costume, is this from the Princess Bride?” That had been one of the first movies he had watched with his cousins after coming to live with them, and it had remained one of his favorites. Westley, the dashing hero, looked a bit like Graves now, dressed all in black with a mask and gloves.

“Sure,” Graves said again, and Credence tilted his head when the man didn’t elaborate any further.

“Okay,” he breathed, pressing closer. “It looks good on you.” He slid a palm down the man’s broad chest, grinning. “But where is your sword?”

Aha. That finally got a reaction. Graves’ dark eyes narrowed, a smirk spreading across his face. “Hmm. What an interesting question. I am guessing you can find it, if you look.”

Credence grinned, his hand drifting down to the man’s pants. “Am I getting warmer?” he murmured against Graves’ lips. He pressed his palm experimentally over the thickening bulge of his groin, kissing him full on the mouth. The man’s lips tasted of alcohol and salt, and his hands were slightly rough as he kneaded Credence’s ass. Without warning, their positions shifted and Credence found himself pressed against the bookshelves, a hot tongue down his throat while Graves’ gloved hands pinned his wrists next to his shoulders. After several minutes of being soundly snogged, Credence gasped in a shuddering breath as the man pulled back.

“Baby, I’m in a bit of a hurry tonight,” Graves said hoarsely, “although you are a delicious distraction. If we’re going to do this, it’s going to need to be quick.” He cupped Credence’s chin in one gloved hand, rubbing his thumb over Credence’s pinkened lower lip. 

“What do you mean?” asked Credence breathlessly, disappointed. “Do you have to go home soon?” He’d been desperately looking forward to tonight. Didn’t Graves want to at least talk to Artemis before he went home?

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” the man said, somewhat impatiently. “Well?” He spread his feet apart and tried to push down on Credence’s shoulders.

Uncomprehending, Credence looked at him in bewilderment.

“You weren’t offering a blow job?” he said, his voice low and gravely just the way Credence usually liked it, but now he just felt cold. 

What? 

No, no, he didn’t think he was ready for that at this moment, and definitely not here, where anybody could walk in. And surely Graves would understand.

“Um… no?” his voice sounded very small. “I don’t… I don’t think I… Someone could see…”

“Baby, we’ll be behind this shelf, the door is closed and nobody will come in,” Graves pressed, and Credence stared at him. Why was he arguing?

“But… the door doesn’t lock… I still don’t…” He searched Graves’ face for his usual compassionate gentleness, but all he saw was impatience. “No,” he said clearly. “I don’t want to.”

“Then what was the point of that little tease?” Graves growled, abruptly letting go of Credence. “Alright, fine. I have to go.”

“W-What?” Reeling, Credence staggered after him out of the library and into the hallway. “Go where?”

“Jesus Christ,” Graves muttered, turning to Credence impatiently. “I have something I have to do, baby,” he said, the pet name sounding strangely wooden. “It doesn’t concern you, and I can’t stay and chat.”

With that he was striding off down the hallway, but he was brought up short when a giggling crowd of people suddenly meandered up the stairs, led by Tori, looking like they were headed toward the photo room again. Graves stiffened, pausing awkwardly as they went by, giving Credence enough time to catch up.

“Oh good, Credence, you found him!” hollered Tori, beaming. “I was rooting for you!” She was looking a little sobered up since earlier by the pool, but her cheeks were still flushed and her eyes a bit extra shiny. Next to her were some of the people from outside, including the vampire woman, whose gaze sharpened immediately.

“No shit,” she said, looking suspicious. “Boss, you’re really here! What was so important that you were hiding away instead of snuggling with this cutie in the garden?”

“I was not hiding,” Graves said smoothly. “I was waiting for Credence to come and find me. It was a game.” He tugged Credence against his side, grip rigid around his waist.

“What? What gammn–?” Credence began, but was cut off by the man’s tongue as he was suddenly kissed deeply, Graves’ palm manhandling his jaw into position as Credence’s fingers scrabbled against the man’s black shirt. There were several wolf whistles and a chorus of giggles before Credence managed to wrench his mouth away, gasping, pinned against Graves’ chest and feeling a little like he couldn’t breathe.

“Hide and seek, huh? Kinky,” said the vampire appreciatively.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Fischer,” said Graves dismissively. 

Her face went carefully blank, a bit of hurt in her eyes. “It’s Fontaine,” she said quietly, staring. “I meant no disrespect, sir.”

“Right,” he said. “Fontaine. Excuse us.” He pulled Credence with him into the bedroom at their left, a ripple of awkward laughter in their wake. 

Through the closed door, Credence could hear the partygoers moving along toward Tori’s workroom, a voice that might’ve been Fontaine saying, “What the hell was that?” before the voices grew too distant to distinguish.

Actually, that was a good question. “What the hell, Graves?” Credence said, his chest feeling tight. The man had let go of him immediately after they had closed the door and was now pacing the room. “Why did you kiss me like that?”

“What? You kissed me first,” the man said impatiently. He strode back over and opened the door, checking the hallway for anybody else. “I didn’t want to talk to those idiots. Now, if you’ll excuse me–” And he made to leave again, as if he hadn’t just been acting like a dick.

“No,” Credence said, grabbing his arm. “What is going on with you today? You aren’t acting like yourself.”

That, finally, seemed to really get his attention. With visible effort, Graves composed himself and turned back toward him. “Credence, baby, don’t say that,” he said with forced gentleness. “I’m sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind and it has left me feeling a bit strained. Work things, you know. I really need to take care of something related to a major move I am making in the company.”

“Oh,” Credence breathed, some of the sick tension leaving him. Surely this was just a temporary lapse, and Graves would go back to being himself after he resolved whatever had him so stressed out. “Of course. I… Is that why you didn’t have time to answer my texts?” he couldn’t help adding, still a bit hurt.

Graves nodded impatiently. “Yes, exactly.”

Credence’s eyes narrowed. “So you did get them, you just didn’t reply,” he said slowly. “What did you think of the photo I sent?”

Graves stared at him for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Sorry, baby, but I didn’t look at anything you sent yet. This work thing is my top priority for the moment, I’m sure you understand.”

Why was this all not adding up? Graves had said last night that he was looking forward to hearing how it went. Wouldn’t he have mentioned if he was going to be tied up with work all day and unable to respond?

“Huh,” Credence murmured. “Well, what about the one I sent a little while ago? I was trying to find you - that would’ve probably been when you were up hiding in the library.”

Graves’ mouth was tight with annoyance. “Yes, well, maybe I didn’t respond because you were acting awfully clingy for a boyfriend who doesn’t offer all that much to begin with,” he said flatly, and Credence suddenly felt as if his heart had fallen on the floor. Just slipped out of his chest and landed with a splat. “I think we are done, Credence, I have to go find Seraphina’s office.”

In a stupor, Credence stumbled after him as he strode out the door, watching the man turn away in disgust from the hallway echoing with the voices of Tori’s friends and instead climb up the stairs toward the third floor, starting to turn left at the landing.

“You’re going the wrong way,” Credence said dully, a painful ache in his sternum. He pressed a hand against the wall, feeling a little dizzy, his mask digging into the bridge of his nose. Distractedly, he pulled it off. He had been so sure, so certain that Graves would never ever hurt him. He had given him so much of his fragile hope, his complete trust. Could he really have been so disappointing that Graves would dump him after less than a week, even after all the wonderful things he had said before?

The man had frozen on the stairs, looking back toward Credence stiffly. “You know where her office is?”

“Yes,” he said miserably, pain lancing through his lungs. “What… why would you… " He swallowed hard. "What do you want me to offer that I’m not?”

Graves was coming back now, an intent look on his face. “Never mind that now, Credence, I need to find something in her office, quickly. Which way is it?”

“When you said we were done, did you mean… What– Why would… I don’t understand.” His breath was coming shorter now, the walls looming far too close on either side of Graves’ dark silhouette.

“Alright, fine, Credence. I just meant I was done with our conversation,” he said quickly, tucking a lock of Credence’s hair behind his ear. “I really am in a hurry,” he said, a burst of laughter coming from down the hall. “Which way?” he said coaxingly. “Baby,” he breathed, cupping Credence’s face. “Tell me.”

Credence blinked rapidly, his vision shrinking and Graves’ voice growing distant. He could hear himself breathing, too fast and too shallow, his head spinning without enough oxygen.

“…edence, come on. Tell me, now. Control it, will you pull it together, just…”

He could see Graves’ blurry face, his mouth moving, but none of it made sense. Time hung heavy, the seconds throbbing past. All of a sudden, there was white-hot pain lancing across his cheek, shocking him so deeply he stopped breathing completely. 

Like an engine turning over, his lungs took in a deep shuddering breath, his head slowly clearing and his system gratefully sucking in air. Along with the bitter poison of betrayal and disbelief.

“You…” he panted. The left side of his face throbbed, his skin fiery hot when Credence probed at it with shaking fingers. _You hit me_ , he tried to say, but the words stuck in his throat. He was living in a nightmare, the person he should have felt safest with had hurt him, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to accept that this was real. Not again.

“Come on, Credence, the office, where is it?” Graves’ eyes were dark and strange, glowing amber with a light that didn’t seem warm any more.

Credence raised a shaking finger and pointed down the hallway on the other side of the stairs, still feeling like this couldn’t be reality.

“Alright,” the man said roughly, stepping away and then cursing when Credence swayed on his feet without Graves’ hands holding him up. “Shit. Fine, you… Just come with me,” he said impatiently, wrapping an arm around his waist and dragging him in the direction he had pointed. “Which door?”

It was the one next to the dark room, two doors down from where light was spilling out of Tori’s workroom and earlier Credence had been so happy. Wrapped around Artemis, thinking everything was going well and they could all be together. Oh, God, Artemis! He couldn’t let Newt be involved with Graves, not now. The man was so completely unpredictable and Newt was so gentle, and… no, no, that couldn’t be allowed to happen. He pictured Graves hitting Newt across the face in the same way he had just hit Credence and his mind filled with a soft hissing fury, black and smoky and wild.

Graves had yanked the office door open and pulled Credence inside, Credence’s white mask falling from numb fingertips as he staggered over the threshold and Graves snapped the door shut behind them.

The man was muttering to himself as he searched the bookshelves, rifling furiously through the volumes. “Has to be here, if it wasn’t in the library.” Credence numbly wandered back over to Sera’s desk, running his fingers over her eagle figurine. Would Sera really be friends with a man like that? She had said over and over that he was too tense, that he worked himself too hard and was too irritable. Credence had just thought she was exaggerating, had thought that when Tori called him an asshole she was just teasing. Would they really have let him walk right into a relationship with a guy who thought that hitting someone in the face could ever be acceptable? 

Graves made a sudden noise of triumph. “Obscurus files, finally,” he growled, pulling out a large book from the shelf.

Credence furrowed his brow. Huh. That was what the flash drive said. Obscurus. 

Sera really shouldn’t leave her flashdrive sticking out of her computer, he thought. There could be a power surge, and she would lose her documents. He’d read about it in the tiny paper user’s guide that had come with his first ever flash drive, a gift from Tina last month to use for school work. It was important to him to take good care of all his belongings, considering he didn’t have very many of them. Absently, his cheek still throbbing, he plucked the slim red USB out of its port, wondering if he should just lay it on the desk for Sera to find later or stick it in one of the drawers. There was a tray of important-looking documents on the edge of her desk, and tucked by the edge was another flashdrive, this one black and unlabeled. Maybe he should put the red one there too.

Graves was still rifling through the book, cursing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck did she put it.” He had it open all the way to the back, where a slot cut out of the pages sat empty. It was small and rectangular. His head snapped over to the computer. “Credence,” he barked, “have you seen a flash drive?”

Graves stuffed the book back on the shelf and stormed over before Credence managed to answer, his eyes drawn unerringly to the tray with the black USB, gaze sparkling in triumph. “There you are,” he growled, snatching it up. “You’re mine now,” he said, closing the drive in his fist. Credence stared at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry, baby, it’s all work business,” he said briskly, excitement crackling off him in waves. He rifled through the rest of the things on her desk briefly, yanking open each of the drawers. “Must be it,” he mumbled. “I’ve got to go now, lots to do.” He was grinning ferally, and he stepped toward Credence, perhaps to kiss him, perhaps not, and Credence instinctively flinched away. Graves stared at him for a second, his brow furrowed, before shrugging. “Suit yourself.” 

He strode across the room, yanking the door open and coming face to face with Artemis, who was holding Credence’s dropped mask and looking as if she had been about to try the handle. She lit up in a grin when she saw Graves. 

But the man simply shouldered past her and strode down the hall without so much as a word, leaving Credence standing there trying his best not to fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a nod to canon, I felt a need to dip into some drama. And address _that_ scene from the movie. I bet you know which one. Just like I bet you've got some guesses what's really going on here.


	17. Warrior II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave you hanging there, y'all. Here's one more chapter for tonight.

Artemis’ face fell as Graves pushed past her, brow furrowing in confusion. Her bewildered gaze traveled to Credence, who was standing there woodenly, the red flash drive still gripped in his sweaty palm. He didn’t know what emotions were showing on his face, but they were enough to send Artemis rushing over immediately, her green eyes full of worry.

“Darling, what happened?” She lay his white mask on the desk, her face pale and delicate and concerned. “Goodness, love, you look like you’re about to fall over, are you alright?” Her brow was furrowing the longer it took him to respond, words curling up under his tongue too tightly to be let out. She glanced over her shoulder, expression getting darker. “Did he… Credence, did he say something cruel to you? What…. Did Graves do something?”

He managed a sound, a hoarse sob, and her expression grew stony. “He did, didn’t he.” It was not a question. She cupped his face in her warm, gentle hands. “Oh, love,” she breathed. “That’s… I would never have seen that coming. What a right arsehole, I’m so sorry. I really thought he was a better sort than that.” Her eyes were anguished and she stroked her thumbs over his cheeks. “Darling, I–” 

She froze, and he realized he had flinched when her thumb dragged over the heated, sore skin impacted by Graves’ fist.

“What,” she breathed. “Did he…” She looked like she was about to cry. “Credence.” It was a hoarse whisper. He didn’t want to face what she was about to ask, so instead he sagged into her body, hiding his face in her neck, cheek throbbing.

“Darling,” she said desperately. “Oh, no. How could he do that? Bloody hell, what is wrong with him?” She ran her hand down his back, soothing and firm. There were voices in the hallway now, spilling out from the workroom, and Credence tucked himself tighter against her body. “Tori,” Artemis called out firmly.

“Oh!” came Tori’s giggle by the door. “I didn’t realize anybody was using Sera’s office for canoodling, are you… Hey, is Credence okay?”

“No, he’s not. And I would appreciate it if you could make sure Graves doesn’t leave. Apparently we need to have a very serious talk with him about inappropriate behavior, which you and Sera may want to be present for. Right now, please.” Her voice was completely rigid, firm and commanding, not unlike the way she spoke to her dogs but without any of the usual affectionate warmth.

“Okay. I’m on it,” Tori said, in a completely different tone of voice, her muffled footsteps immediately disappearing toward the stairs.

“Sweetheart,” murmured Artemis. “I’ll do the talking if you want, so you don’t even have to look at him, but he needs to know this was not okay. Do you think you can tell me what happened? Just a little bit of it?”

Credence sniffled, the affection in her voice unplugging the clog in his throat and sending a wave of tears pouring hot and stinging down his face at the same time. “I was h-having trouble breathing,” he said hitchingly into her shoulder. “He wanted me to stop.”

Her voice was hard and unhappy. “You were having a panic attack. So he hit you.”

Credence nodded. “H-He wanted me to tell him w-where…” He took a deep breath, trying to get his words to come out more smoothly. “He said he was in a hurry. He needed something from the office, wanted me to help him find it, and then he had to go.”

She was quiet for a moment. “What the hell did he need here that was more important than helping you through your panic attack? Do you know what it was, pet?”

“A flashdrive,” he mumbled, reluctantly pulling his face out of hiding and meeting her green eyes. He opened his fist to show her the little red rectangle of plastic. “I think this was the one he really wanted, but I hid it and he took a different one.”

Her eyes widened, and Credence sniffed a little again, rubbing at the tears on his cheek and realizing that his makeup was probably ruined. “I don’t want… Artemis, will you help me clean up before we see other people?” he whispered.

“Of course, love,” she said gently, “I’ve got some face wipes in here somewhere…” She was rummaging in her bra, pulling out a little foil packet. “Oops, not that one.” She frowned apologetically. “I just threw that in last minute, er… Just in case. But I guess we won’t be doing that… Or at least, certainly not with _him_.”

She had gotten the tiny plastic pack of wipes out now and was carefully extracting one, and Credence took a steadying breath. “He said I was too clingy,” he confessed, staying still as she gently stroked away the mess of makeup under his eyes. “That’s… I was so shocked, and I… He seemed like he didn’t want anything to do with me. That’s why… That’s why I was having trouble breathing,” he said miserably. “I don’t… I hate the idea that he was disappointed, he didn’t like me enough. He said I didn’t have much to offer.”

“What?” Artemis looked enraged. “He said that you, Credence, don’t have much to offer? That is the biggest pile of shite I have ever heard.” Her vehement tone of voice was counterbalanced by how soft and delicate her hands were as she cleaned off his face. “He’s a bloody cad and an idiot.” Her brow furrowed despairingly. “And to think, he seemed to be so kind. I can’t wrap my head around that.” She balled up the face wipe and tossed it in the trash can under Sera’s desk. “There you are, darling, fresh as a daisy. You’re going to have a shiner there on your cheek in the morning, I’m afraid. Might be a good idea to take a photo in case you decide to press charges. Just as security.”

His eyes widened and he nodded, sliding his hand into hers and clutching it tightly. The supportive smile she gave him lent him just enough strength to keep his chin up as they left the office and descended the stairs, emerging into the living room into a scene of vibrating tension. Sera was standing with her arms crossed in front of the door, dressed in an incredible suit of leather gladiator armor, a bronze helmet framing her cheekbones and resting over her hair, which was in dozens of tight golden braids that cascaded down over her shoulders. The entire effect was very intimidating. Her gaze was flinty under her gold eyeliner as she stared down Graves, who was pacing and glaring at her, his back to the stairs. A small crowd had gathered around them, staring awkwardly, and Credence spotted Tina close by at Sera’s side.

“Why won’t you let me leave? I’ve made my courtesy visit and now I no longer wish to be here. Is it your custom to hold your guests against their will?” Graves sounded like a trapped tiger, snarling and dangerous.

“And why is it that you want to leave?” Sera said sharply. “When I spoke to you yesterday, you said you were looking forward to tonight more than anything. I would like to know what has changed, why you weren’t answering your phone today, and why you nearly bit my sister’s head off just now when she got in your way. What is the matter with you?”

Graves sighed. “Sera, would you leave it, I am just having a bad day. I forgot to charge my phone, I didn’t sleep well, and I’ve got a headache. That’s all. You know how I get when I’m running on fumes.”

She tilted her head, considering, but Tori had appeared on her other side and was staring at Graves, her eyes narrowed.

“That’s no excuse,” she said coldly, “for mistreating one of our other guests.” 

Sera’s gaze sharpened as she stared at her sister in shock. “What?” she asked.

“What the hell are you talking about?” said Graves, his voice tight with poorly suppressed frustration. “Astoria, really, this isn’t the time for our prank war, or our petty squabbling. Why on earth are you dragging this out? I just want to go home.”

“No,” said Tori simply. “You won’t be going anywhere until you apologize to Credence.”

Sera seemed to have caught sight of him on the other side of the room where he stood pale and sick with nerves, clinging to Artemis’ hand. He made an effort to straighten his spine, squaring his shoulders and curling his free hand into a fist around the flash drive to try and stop it from trembling.

“What?” Graves was saying incredulously. “Really? You want me to apologize for hurting his delicate feelings over our relationship trouble? That seems a little personal for you to be meddling in, Tori. It’s none of your business.”

Sera was still looking over Graves’ shoulder, her eyes locked with Credence’s, and he took a deep breath and shook his head firmly.

“I don’t think you’re telling us the whole story,” Sera said slowly. “Why don’t we hear what Credence has to say. Everyone who isn’t family, could you give us some privacy?”  
Graves’ shoulders stiffened as the room emptied and he caught sight of Credence standing at the base of the stairs, glaring at him from next to Artemis.

“Oh fucking hell, really? You want to make a big scene out of this?” He was acting exasperated and unaffected, but Credence could see a hint of panic in his eyes. Tina was looking concerned, her gaze flicking between Credence and Graves, her brow furrowed, and the thought of upsetting her further with what he was about to say sent acid swirling in his stomach.

Credence faltered, and Artemis asked softly, “You want me to tell them?”

Drawing his courage tightly around him, Credence shook his head. His voice, when it finally came out, was clear and even. 

“Why did you want that flash drive so badly?” 

Somehow it was easier to start with this, rather than his other most pressing question, which was more along the lines of ‘Since when have you been an abusive dick?’ Gauging by the absolute fury on Graves’ face, however, that question was plenty incendiary.

“What flash drive?” asked Sera with dangerous calm. 

“Obscurus files,” said Credence carefully, and the look on Graves’ face turned to pure hatred. “He wanted to take it from your office.”

“Oh, you little snitch,” snarled Graves with a joyless smile. “What a fucking treasure you are. Consider us properly broken up, then.”

Sera stared at him in uncomprehending shock. “Why would you do that? You know what’s on that flash drive, and how important it is. Graves, explain yourself,” she demanded. “Is that why you were in such a hurry to go?”

“I just wanted to make a backup of the encrypted client information,” he said smoothly, “for safekeeping. It was going to be a lovely surprise for you in case we ever lost that flash drive, to have it safe and sound regardless.”

She didn’t look convinced, her eyes still narrowed. “Percival, look me in the eye and say that one more time, because for a second there it sounded like you were telling me a bald-faced lie.” Her fearsome stare was enough to make Credence quail, and he wasn’t even on the receiving end of it.

Graves was silent for a moment, gathering his composure. “Sera, I’ve been with this company since it began. What do you think I’m going to do, sabotage it? Our greatest collaboration, our life’s work? I just wanted to have my own copy of that information, I think it is a good idea in the larger scheme of things to have a backup plan in place. A failsafe, for the greater good.”

Her arms were still crossed tightly over her chest, her gaze shrewd and assessing, but she didn’t ask him to explain himself further. Tori, at her side, looked over at Credence and Artemis.

“There’s more, though, isn’t there?” Tori asked. “You said his behavior had been inappropriate. I’m ashamed to say, I thought it seemed like Credence was uncomfortable earlier, but I passed it off as shyness about being kissed in front of a hallway full of strangers. Credence, was that kiss consensual?”

He had almost forgotten about that part, with all that had come after. “No,” he croaked. His face burned and he stared at the floor in mortification at having all of this discussed out loud in front of Tina, who was looking increasingly distraught.

Graves threw up his hands in exasperation. “Oh, come on. He kissed me first, in the library. When we were alone together he was all over me.” He looked at Credence, an expression of exaggerated patience on his handsome face. “Now, this plea for attention is really not cute, baby. If you wanted to have a sulk, you should’ve –”

“You promised,” interrupted Credence, loudly and slightly unevenly. “You said that you wouldn’t ever kiss me in front of other people unless I initiated it. Because you know… you know I have trouble… I have anxieties about crowds, and being watched,” he finished tightly. “You said you would follow my lead, but then you just grabbed me, in the hallway. I didn’t like it.”

“And,” Artemis prompted softly.

“And you…” He took in a shuddering breath, clenching his jaw. “If someone is having an anxiety attack,” he said, letting his voice go cold, retreating behind an emotionless barrier, “general rule, you don’t punch them in the face to make them stop.” 

“That’s pretty much a given, I would’ve thought,” added Artemis frostily. Sera and Tori were both staring at Graves in disbelieving horror while Tina, red with fury, looked like she was trying very hard to resist punching the man in the face herself.

A certain amount of frustrated resignation was settling in Graves’ eyes as he stared around at them all for a moment. He raised his eyebrows at Credence. “Alright, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry about the kiss and for smacking you, though it did stop your hyperventilating.” Credence glared. “No? Okay, fine, I am sorry. Full stop. Now can I go?”

“Once you give back the flash drive,” said Sera pointedly, holding out her hand, her mouth thinned in anger. “Prove to me you were honestly just looking out for the company, and we’ll discuss making a backup copy for you later.” Her eyes were hard and flinty. “Right now, I don’t know what to think.”

There was a moment, as Graves tensed, where things remained calm and civilized, and then that moment was abruptly broken as Graves made a dash for the kitchen, sprinting past Credence and Artemis toward the open doorway too fast for them to react. If he made it through that door, he could push through the ballroom and then out into the garden, all the way into the night.

Suddenly, however, Jacob and Queenie were between Graves and the exit, Credence’s stomach twisting in mortification at the realization that they must’ve heard the whole thing from the corner near the doorway. Right now, though, Jacob had planted himself in Graves’ path with his fists up, nearly managing to get a punch in before Graves skidded wide, charging toward Queenie instead, standing there innocuously in her glittering dress. Clearly, he thought she’d be the easier option to bowl over. 

There was a blur of movement and a crunch as her fist caught him square in the nose and then one sparkly gold pump swept his feet out from under him with a well-placed kick. Jacob stared at her, his mouth open.

“What the fuck.” Graves was groaning on the floor, blood dripping from his nose. “Who the fuck are you, Tinkerbell on steroids? What the hell did I ever do to you?”

She looked down at him without a hint of a smile, her face almost unrecognizable without any spark of its usual joy. “I would think that would be obvious,” she said flatly. He was slowly rising to his feet, his eyes on her unnervingly cold expression. 

“Ah,” he said carefully. But his gaze still held no recognition, as if he’d never met her before. “You must be related to Credence, then.”

Queenie looked highly unimpressed and extremely angry. “You really think this is the time to play dumb? You know exactly who I am,” she said coolly.

“Of course,” he said quickly, with an arrogant shrug. “You’re Credence’s sister.” The words came out confidently, and would’ve convinced any other listener that he knew what he was talking about. Except for the fact that he didn’t.

Queenie stared at him. Tina tilted her head. “What did you say?” she asked in dark amusement. “Is your memory that bad, or did you just not care enough to listen when we were being introduced?” Credence’s mind was swirling, uncomprehending. Graves knew that the Goldsteins were his cousins, and that his sisters lived with a foster family, he’d spent hours listening to Credence talk about them. There was no way he had forgotten. 

Just like Credence would’ve sworn there was no way Graves would treat him as callously as he suddenly had tonight.

The pieces of the puzzle were all stacking up in his mind, all the little inconsistencies finally coming together to illuminate what might’ve been clear all along if he hadn’t been fooled by his eyes and by his expectations.

Artemis next to him seemed to have come to the same conclusion. “You’re not Graves at all, are you?” she asked, her voice low and intent. Credence watched curiously as the man’s face blanched, feeling oddly detached, shock rushing loudly in his ears.

Sera’s eyes widened, and she strode forward toward not-Graves who flung himself under her outstretched arm and made a desperate dash toward the front door only to be bodily tackled by both Tina and Tori. Tori ended up planted on his legs while Tina held onto his thrashing arms, and in the midst of all the snarling and kicking and swearing, Artemis strolled over and casually plucked off the man’s mask.

Once not-Graves stopped trying to buck Tina off and stayed still, Credence could finally see his face. The differences were subtle, but telling. There was something about him that was just a bit off, to Credence’s eyes, a mole under his eye that he didn’t remember. His hair was just a shade lighter, and cut differently, and now that the mask was gone he could see that the breadth of this man’s cheekbones was just a bit wider than Graves’. He was almost identical, but not quite. Like an identical twin usually was.

“Gellert,” said Sera with dangerous calm. 

“Seraphina,” the man sneered.

“You are not welcome here. I thought I made that very clear,” she said, silky soft. “Or had you forgotten?”

“After all we’ve been through together, Sera, your betrayal is not a moment I will soon forget,” snarled Gellert. “Nor my brother’s. You and Percy were always such a pair of fucking hypocrites, acting so noble and then stabbing me in the back.”

She stared at him casually, like he was beneath her notice. “Funny, because I seem to remember you blackmailing our clients behind _our_ backs, and we either had to fire you or lose the company and go to jail for your mistakes.” She walked briskly over and knelt next to Tina. “My darling, would you mind having a look at what he’s got in his hand there?”

“Of course,” Tina said, calmly prying Gellert’s fist open and extracting the black flash drive while he panted and snarled.

Sera’s tinkling, melodious laugh filled the room as she straightened up, flipping the drive over in her hand. “Ah. Well, that’s a pleasant surprise. Look familiar, Tori?”

“Oh! That’s my backup, isn’t it? You borrowed it to send Abernathy to the print shop to order the proofs,” she said in amusement. Gellert’s face twisted in shock.

“Indeed,” said Sera wryly. “Unless it was your intention to steal photographs of beautiful androgynous models, Gellert, I think you missed the mark.”

He smiled sarcastically at her before glowering once more. “Hilarious. At least I was doing something. Something to get this company back on track to what it had the potential to become. You’ve let it flop, Sera, your leadership is weak,” he spat.

“So, armed with this set of fashion photography, you were going to, what? Blackmail clients into buying art prints?” Her sarcasm matched his, dry as a bone.

“No,” he said, overly patient. “The Obscurus files would’ve allowed me to do what you’ve been too cowardly to do. Branch out, take a firmer grasp over the industry. The world needs people like us to take control, Sera, smart people, gifted people with vision and talent. There are far too many lackluster idiots out there making a mess of things while we work our asses off to build something truly magical. That company had the potential to make us powerful beyond our wildest dreams, and what did you do? Oh, too scared. Too risky, too problematic. You _backed off_.”

She snorted. “Or, too illegal, too morally ambiguous, you mean.” She tilted her head. “So your intention was to take the Obscurus information and start your own company from the bottom up, burning through our clients like starter fuel to get it going?”

“See, even you can see it would’ve been a good plan. It would’ve worked,” he said, a mad sparkle in his eyes.

“Hmm.” She looked down at the flash drive again, smirking. “Maybe. Who’s to say, if you hadn’t ended up with the wrong flash, maybe you could’ve done some real damage. Or maybe we could’ve helped the clients make a case against you to put you in prison for real this time. As it is, I’m almost disappointed that I didn’t get to see you run off with a drive full of photos, so I could imagine the face you’d be making as you realized what you’d ended up with.”

Gellert glared up at her. “You can drop the charade now. If you hadn’t noticed, I can’t even move. There’s no need to try and pretend that flash isn’t important.”

“No, really,” she grinned, “I’m quite serious. Can’t imagine how you missed the real Obscurus flash drive, I think I was using it earlier today, so it would’ve been right on the desk somewhere." Her voice was contemplative, and her gaze swiveled over to Credence. "Hard to miss something that’s right there in front of you.” 

Credence blinked at her, still feeling a bit stiff and frozen. 

“Except, it wasn’t there anymore by the time he looked,” Artemis said slowly. She squeezed Credence’s shoulder. "Go on, darling. It's alright."

Credence bit his lip, sheepishly opening his fist and slowly revealing the little red stick nestled in his palm. 

“Um. It was still plugged into the computer,” he said softly. “That’s really not a good way to store a USB drive. I took it out in case you had a power surge.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Sera threw back her head and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand, I bet you all called it. I'm not that sneaky.   
> The real Graves will show up to the party in the next chapter, coming tomorrow :)
> 
> Have a good night!


	18. Bound Angle Pose

The rest of the party went on celebrating in the back of the house, oblivious, while Sera called the police and paced up and down the living room, growing more and more frustrated when Gellert refused to say where his brother was despite her increasingly agitated questioning.

“How should I know?” he said smugly. “Perhaps Percy was detained somewhere. Or he’s taken a last-minute vacation.” It seemed clear he had done something to prevent him from attending the party, but he insisted on maintaining a charade of innocence.

When the police arrived, Jacob went to reassure the rest of the guests that the party was still going, and that the cop cars outside had not come to put a stop to their merriment. 

And so it continued. Credence wished for a moment that he could be one of the people dancing in the ballroom or gaily running through the moonlit hedges on the lawn, rather than waiting here to give his statement to a solemn police woman while Gellert snarled and rattled his handcuffs.

They were almost done with Credence’s stumbling account of the events upstairs in the hallway, the bedroom and the office, and moving on to what happened in the showdown in the living room when he heard raised voices echoing outside in the driveway through the open front door.

“Sir, please wait out here. Sir, no, I’m afraid you can’t go in there,” someone was saying. “We’re in the process of interviewing witnesses and taking someone into custody and we need everyone else to stand clear. What is your business here tonight?”

“What? Custody? I’m… I was supposed to be here at the party, I… Somebody stole my car, my phone… it’s a long story that I already told the officers at the station, actually. What happened? Please, all my friends are in there. Is everyone okay?”

Graves. Without even thinking about it, Credence had stood up, turning toward the door. That was Graves’ voice, the real Graves, and it was quite possibly the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “Mr. Goldstein,” the police officer interviewing Credence said, gently pulling him back down. “Almost done. Can you talk me through the last part? As soon as we’re all finished, I promise your friend can come in.” Next to him on the couch, Artemis took his hand, squeezing his fingers. 

He talked his way through the rest of the information that Gellert had revealed about his plans, trying to concentrate on what the police woman wanted to know rather than staring vaguely toward the door. Credence blinked heavily. It was getting late and he was starting to feel the exhaustion of the week setting in, making it harder and harder to focus.

Finally, it seemed, the questions were over and he could snuggle back into the couch under a blanket and flop his head onto Artemis’ shoulder while the cop took her statement too, another officer talking quietly to Sera and Tori at the other end of the room. Queenie had planted herself on Credence’s other side and was rubbing his back while Tina paced agitatedly behind the couch. 

Credence remained curled into Artemis’ warm body as he watched the last of the interviews finish up, and he was still tucked tightly into her side when Graves was finally allowed to come inside.

Seeing him was like a surreal jolt, like waking up from a dream that had been a skewed reflection of reality. Graves’ familiar features were warm and concerned, and honest and _real_ and kind in away Gellert’s had never been. For a moment the man’s frantic eyes took in the whole scene, the weary faces around the room, Credence on the couch making himself as small as possible. 

And then he saw his brother. He froze, his face rippling with naked emotion. For a moment the two men stared at each other, Graves uncomprehending and Gellert looking spiteful.

“Gellert? What? What are you doing here?” Graves said in blank shock, his eyes clouding with disquiet at the sight of the handcuffs. “What did you do?”

“Hardly much of anything, as it turns out,” his brother drawled. “Why are you so quick to assume I did something wrong? Why aren’t you ever on my side?”

Fury was crawling over Graves’ face, a flush rising up his neck. “Because past experience has taught me that that you are prone to behaving like an asshole,” he spat. “What the fuck, Gellert, I don’t hear from you in years and now you, what, you break in to my apartment and then steal my car… That was you, wasn’t it? What are you doing here?… That’s… is that my costume?”

“Of course not, Percy, that would be crazy,” smirked Gellert lazily. “I had nothing to do with your car, I was just showing up at an old friend’s party. My costume just happens to look exactly like yours, I can’t help it if everyone thought I was you.” The sarcasm laced through his voice was heavy with scorn.

Helpless fear now shone out of Graves’ eyes, and his voice was tight. “What… You pretended to be me? Did you…” His eyes found Credence again where he sat curled on the couch, wide eyes peering back at the man over his blanket-covered knees, tucked in the circle of Artemis’ protective arms, Queenie looking flinty on his other side while Tina crossed her arms behind him.

“Yep,” Tori said flatly, adjusting her metal wrist guards, “we all thought he was you, except then he was acting like a bigger dick than you have ever been. It took us an embarrassingly long time to figure it out, but then again we thought he was in Switzerland.”

Graves looked absolutely devastated, his mouth open in horror. “Credence,” he croaked, “shit, did he... You… You thought he was me…”

Gellert was laughing now. “Oh, he sure did,” he said, cruelly amused. “Cornered me in the library and gave me quite the affectionate greeting, in fact. And if that door had had a lock on it, things might’ve gone very differently. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Mortified and sickened, Credence covered his face with his hands and hid in Artemis’ neck, dimly aware of Tina saying something angrily to the police officers while Gellert laughed. There was the sound of jingling metal, and footsteps.

“Oh, and then I broke up with him for you,” the taunting continued. “Figured I’d do you a favor. He’s a little too prudish and clingy for my tastes. Such a delicate constitution, whining and fainting at the littlest upset, you’re much better free of him.” His voice was heading toward the door, along with a sort of scuffling noise, like someone was being prevented from following him. “Happy Halloween, Percy,” he called from outside, presumably being marched to the cop car.

There was a thud and an indistinct sort of growl of rage, and footsteps pounding after him.

“Sir, please, we need you to stay calm–”

“How _fucking_ dare you? How dare you lay a finger on him, you jackass! What the fuck is the matter with you, huh?” Graves’ voice echoed up the driveway.

“We’ll be holding him overnight, and if you’d like to give a statement, we can–”

“Have you lost your mind? When did you go from being my brother to being an insane creep? You lied, you tried to use me… to use the company to do whatever the fuck you wanted, and now you sneak into a party to mess with my boyfriend? Have you actually lost your fucking mind?” He sounded broken and distraught, genuinely devastated.

“Oh Percy.” Gellert could just barely still be heard, sounding snide and frustrated. “Of course not, my mind is clearer than ever. I did it all for the greater good. You don’t need him, you don’t need any of this. You’re too blinded by petty conventions to see it, but I have a vision. It all could’ve been so great, if you and I had worked together, freed from distractions and rules.” 

There was the slam of a car door, some indistinct yelling, the roar of an engine and the calm voice of the polite officer.

“Sir, did you know your brother would be here tonight?”

“Of course not,” snarled Graves incredulously. “I would’ve tried to warn Sera immediately if I’d known he was even in the country. We’ve been on bad terms for years, but I had no idea he was planning something like this.”

The quiet voice of the police officer drifted in and out of earshot, mingling with the sound of the party still going on in the back. “…already given your statement, but if we could quickly go over…”

The pounding beat coming from the speakers in the back was playing a catchy dance-able song, in surreal contrast to the throbbing of Credence’s head.

“… started feeling woozy after drinking my coffee this morning, he must’ve put something in it during the night.” Graves was saying in frustration. “Only woke up about two hours ago…”

Artemis’ neck smelled of flowers and eucalyptus, and her long red hair was soft against his cheek.

“…was clear someone had been in my house today while I was unconscious… cat was terrified…”

Credence made a soft, wounded noise at that, and Artemis cuddled him a bit tighter.

“…mentioned something about your car?” The policeman’s tone was steady and calm, Graves’ voice evening out into a weary low rumble.

“Yes.” There was a deep sigh. “It was gone, when I came out to try and drive…” He sounded exhausted. The music pumped onward.“…keys were nowhere to be found either, and so I got locked out of the house. Had to smash the back window and force my way in, and then I got a neighbor to call the police when I realized my wallet and my phone were missing too…”

Artemis was stroking her fingers through his hair, and the room suddenly smelled of spiced apples.

“Anybody want some cider? I had this heating up in the kitchen. Just thought it might be nice,” came Tori’s hesitant voice. Credence’s stomach squirmed in discomfort.

“…spent forever trying to get ahold of the bank to cancel my credit cards and then going over what I remember with the police, had to borrow cash from my neighbor for a taxi to get here…” There were murmurs of thanks as others around the room accepted mugs of cider. “… lucky she was willing to help me out. I don’t want to think about what a pain it would’ve been if I hadn’t been able to borrow her phone.”

Credence was doing his best not to think at all, to avoid any conscious string of thoughts, and above all to ignore the voice in his head still echoing what Gellert had said before. _If there had been a lock on that library door, the whole thing might have gone differently._

He could’ve… What if he had allowed himself to be convinced to…

“Will he go to jail?” came Graves’ low voice.

“Ms. Picquery has informed us of her intention to press charges,” the officer was saying calmly. “I understand you are a major stakeholder in MACUSA, whose interests your brother was targeting, so I imagine you will be kept abreast of the proceedings. It will be up to Mr. Goldstein whether he wishes to make a separate case for assault. I can’t give you any more details than that.”

“Assault.” Graves’ voice cracked. “Jesus.”

“As I said, that’s all the information I can give out right now, sir,” the officer said calmly. “I presume, then, that these keys are yours? They were in your brother’s pocket. Thank you for your cooperation, you are free to go.”

Credence wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he became aware that all the police had left and there were footsteps climbing up the driveway to the door. He was pressed against Artemis, blanket pulled up to his nose, existing in a careful blank fog, but when he blinked his eyes open to see Graves standing motionless in the doorway, he suddenly felt wide awake again.

The man was uncharacteristically disheveled, looking shaken and lost. He was wearing a wrinkled tee shirt and worn jeans with a rip in the knee, and his hair was slightly mussed, like he hadn’t had time to apply gel to it yet today, dark strands falling softly over his forehead and temples. He was shivering slightly, and Credence realized he didn’t appear to have a coat, like he had run out the door without it. That thought, more than anything, made him feel a sort of acutely painful protectiveness, a wrenching feeling of dismay. 

With a helpless noise of distress, Credence sat up, gently extracting himself from between Queenie and Artemis, catching the latter’s eye as he slid out from under the blanket. She was watching him carefully, concern still etched in the delicate furrow of her brow. Her fox ears were still perched endearingly on her head, and her mascara was smudged, her eyes a little red.

Oh. He hated the idea that he had indirectly made her cry, but the empathy of it made his heart feel warm and full. She cared so much that his pain was her pain too, and the realization hit him with a pulse of soft astonishment.

“Just a minute,” he whispered, feeling like he was abandoning her now, even though she’d been the one comforting him. She nodded, one pale hand twisting the tassels on the edge of the blanket, and he turned back to Graves.

He had shut the door behind him, but the room was quite cold from all the night air that had already come in. Credence shivered slightly as he walked over and tentatively took the man’s hand.

“Are you okay?” he breathed, watching Graves’ face crumple.

“I should be asking you that, shouldn’t I?” the man replied, sounding a bit hopeless. “Shit, I… Credence, I am so sorry. I was such an _idiot_.”

“What do you mean?” Credence asked softly, “How could you have known what was going to happen?”

Graves’ expression twisted. “I don’t know, I… But I could’ve warned you better about him, or… Or paid someone to track his whereabouts. Treated his sarcastic threats from years ago more seriously, considered the possibility that he’d… lost his grip on reality this much.” His voice still held a mix of shattered vulnerability and shock. “I just never thought…”

“Neither did I,” came Sera’s voice from over Credence’s shoulder. “Graves, this isn’t all on you. I obviously need some stricter security measures concerning who I allow to come into my house, party or not. I let him in the door myself.” She looked furious at the thought. “If this were just about the flash drive we could’ve dealt with that, but Credence, I am deeply sorry that this all happened right under my nose, and you ended up hurt by my oversight.”

She looked at him solemnly, her eyes pained, while Credence floundered in shock at her words. She valued him higher than those files? “But weren’t the Obscurus files irreplaceable?” he asked in confusion.

“Well, sure, but that’s why I have a backup locked in my private safe at MACUSA. Plus, we’ve changed the encryption on them since Gellert left the company. He would’ve needed quite some time to decode the information, giving us a chance to warn the clients to change their firewalls and prepare to resist his attempts to… convince them of the superiority of his business plan.” She shook her head. “We weren’t quite as unprotected as it might’ve seemed, but it was still incredibly foolish of me to leave that drive lying out in the open. Your quick thinking was admirable, Credence, and I am pleased to know he wouldn’t have made off with the information even if we hadn’t managed to stop him at the door.” She spun the little red flash drive between her fingers, giving him a grateful look.

“Hang on,” said Graves, sounding baffled. “What happened, exactly? How…”

“Alright, Graves,” Tori cut in, sounding exasperated. “If you want the whole story, again, after we’ve just finished re-telling it a zillion times to the police, you’re going to have to try my cider. And stop looming in the doorway and come sit down.” Credence hadn’t noticed her hovering behind Sera, but now he took in how tightly her hands were clutching the ladle, a crock pot of hot cider steaming on the side table surrounded by earthenware mugs. Despite her playful tone, her words held an undercurrent of anxiety, and her eyes were a little bit wild.

This can’t have been a pleasant experience for her either, to be confronted by an old friend that had become an enemy overnight, while the real Graves had been drugged and prevented from appearing. And now he looked so cold in just his tee-shirt. It was no wonder she was feeling a bit insistent that he warm up.

“Yes,” said Credence firmly. “Come sit.” Tori smiled at him gratefully, her grip on the ladle easing slightly. Her hostess instincts seemed to have kicked into high gear in an effort to return to normalcy and reassure herself and everyone else that it would all be okay. She immediately poured a mug and pressed it into Graves’ hands while Credence turned back to the couch. With an understanding smile, Queenie made space and got up to join Jacob by the table. Artemis looked up at Credence, offering the end of the blanket, and he gratefully snuggled back into her side, beckoning Graves to take a seat and fussing with the blanket until it partially covered all three of them.

It felt abrasive and exhausting at first to hear the whole story again, but luckily Sera did most of the talking, allowing Credence to sit quietly with his head on Graves’ shoulder and one of Artemis’ hands clasped in both of his. 

“And then Credence opened his hand, calm as you please, and he had been holding the Obscurus the whole time,” she said, huffing with amusement. She’d stuck to telling Graves only the parts she had witnessed, leaving it up to Credence to explain what had happened between himself and Gellert in private later on. It was a consideration he deeply appreciated, not sure he wanted to talk through all of that again in front of the group. Tina was perched on the arm of Sera’s chair, her dark eyes still intense and upset, and Queenie kept glancing over at him from where she sat in one of the other armchairs, Jacob’s strong hands massaging the tension from her shoulders. Tori flitted between them all, refilling their cider and maintaining a determined smile.

“I see,” said Graves, still sounding overwhelmed. “You tricked him. Did you… Credence, do you think you had picked up on the fact he wasn’t me? Even subconsciously?” He sounded desperately hopeful, voice tight.

Credence hesitated, looking up at him. To be honest, he wasn’t really sure. His mind had been in chaos, hurt and bewildered, but surely some part of him had known this couldn’t be the real Graves, that the man would never treat him with such disrespect, such cruelty. Surely. But then again, said a small dark voice hissing in the smoke of his heart, he was used to being dismissed and mistreated by those closest to him. It was a horrible truth, but maybe some pessimistic portion of him hadn’t been surprised at all, had been expecting this all along. Like the real Graves was a dream, too good to be true.

“Maybe,” he whispered, looking back down at his lap, where his fingers twined around Artemis’. Glossy red and silver.

“Hey,” Graves breathed, sounding shattered. “You know I wouldn’t… I would never… Those things he called you, whatever he said to you earlier, he was lying. I… you are more important to me than anything, I have no desire to end things with you, I… You deserve better than me, certainly, but I swear I would never break things off like that, or treat you like…” He had cupped Credence’s face delicately in his palms, but unfortunately even that light touch was enough to make him flinch involuntarily, both at the memory of Gellert doing the same thing and the soreness of his cheek from the punch that came after. 

Graves let go immediately, his expression frozen in horror. “What…” There was a tense pause. “Did he… Is that a bruise?”

“Ice.” Tori looked a bit embarrassed as their heads all snapped to look at her, like the word had slipped out without her meaning it to, forceful and desperate. She cleared her throat. “I knew there was something I was forgetting. Let me get you some ice for that.” She disappeared into the kitchen before Credence could tell her that it was fine, that it didn’t hurt that much, but he swallowed his protests down in the face of Tina’s dark, anguished stare. Right. Suffering in silence wasn’t healthy, and his cheek was lightly throbbing. Plus, he knew the ice pack was more symbolic than anything, a way for Tori to help out.

“What happened?” asked Graves quietly, holding very still as Credence re-settled his head on the man’s shoulder, looking like he was afraid he’s scare him away with any sudden movements. 

Credence’s dark hair whispered over his cheek, falling like a curtain as he tried to force the words out. “Uhm…” He swallowed.

“Here you go, honey.” Tori was back, helping Credence press an ice pack against his face, hiding from Graves’ devastated eyes by snuggling his forehead into the man’s neck. Artemis rubbed his back gently.

“Your brother hit him,” came Tina’s voice finally, sharp and profoundly angry underneath a dangerous calm. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I feel a need to express how severe the consequences will be if you ever do the same.”

By the sound of it, Graves was gaping at her, his hand reflexively clutching Credence’s knee. “ _Hit_ him.” His voice was rough and raw. “He…I… Of course, I understand, you have to be sure I’m not like _him_.” He swallowed, throat moving against Credence’s forehead, his heartbeat a steady honest thrum under Credence’s jaw. “I swear I would never, ever, raise a hand to Credence. Not to anyone I’m dating, for that matter, much less a… a survivor of abuse, not ever, not even in jest. That’s just wrong.” His voice grew soft and anguished. “Credence, I hope you know I wouldn’t do that. The idea of hurting you makes me sick. I… For what it is worth, I am so sorry you had to go through that, and that you thought it was me… Thought that I would…” He sounded choked as he trailed off, and Credence carefully sought out his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“I know,” he rasped. “You wouldn’t.” At least, he knew now. There had been a few moments upstairs when he wasn’t sure, and now he hated that he’d been fooled, that he’d believed Graves would be so heartless. But the devil wore many faces, and that lesson had been taught too well and too long ago to be cast away. 

“No,” Graves breathed, almost inaudibly. “I wouldn’t.”

“And you wouldn’t make him kiss you when he doesn’t want to?” asked Tina roughly. “Or ever pressure him into anything he wasn’t comfortable doing?”

“ _No_ , God no. Never.” Graves sounded like he was on the verge of weeping, actually. “Did he do that too?” There was a pregnant silence, during which Tina presumably nodded, followed by a gusting, half-strangled sob. It was a helpless noise, full of rage and despair, though Graves’ hands were gentle as they cradled Credence’s palm reverently between them. “No,” he croaked. Credence tangled their fingers together tightly, and Graves’ thumb drew light circles on the back of his hand.

“Good,” Tina said crisply. “Because otherwise I’d be forced to ensure you never saw him again.”

For a moment, while Graves swallowed, Credence worried that she’d scared him off. “Completely understandable,” he said, though, and there was a raw sincerity to his voice. “I presume it is you I ought to congratulate for breaking my brother’s nose, then? I thought it must’ve been Sera at first, but it seems you had an even better reason.”

Tina barked a laugh. “Oh, no, I went easy on him, unfortunately. Had to keep things legal. Queenie’s the lucky one, she had the excuse of him charging at her to justify letting him have it.”

“It was a good strike combo, jab and a low kick, perfect form,” put in Sera dryly. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Shame nobody took a video.”

Finally, Credence just had to emerge from his hiding place in Graves’ neck to see Queenie’s small wry grin, Jacob trying not to look overly proud at her side. “Well, thank you,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically solemn. “It felt good too. Nobody messes with Credence on my watch.” Her eyes were dark, and her fists tightly clenched in her lap.

“Nobody messes with him, period,” Jacob said softly. “You’ve got us all watching your back, Credence, always.”

Credence managed a small, sore smile behind his ice pack. “Thanks,” he murmured.

Something in the room seemed to relax after that, and they all sat in companionable silence for a while, sipping cider, until Andromeda poked her head in from the kitchen to ask if everyone was alright, a troubled furrow between her brows.

“Don’t want to intrude, I just thought I’d ask if I can do anything, get anybody something? We heard a lot of shouting earlier.” Several of Tori’s friends could be seen in the kitchen behind her, along with the painter with the glasses and the blonde guy from their yoga class. His grey eyes widened when he saw the melting ice pack pressed to Credence’s cheek.

Tori met Credence’s gaze quickly before standing to go reassure her. “It’s sweet of you to ask, Andy, but I think we’re gonna be fine now.” She opened the door wider. “Oh, I didn’t mean to trap everybody back here!” He could hear her footsteps travel further into the kitchen. “Don’t worry, everyone,” she called. “The drama is over! We had a party crasher in our midst without knowing it, and things got out of hand. He was being a dick, but he’s gone now!” There were some whoops from the crowd in the ballroom, and a smattering of applause at her pronouncement. “Sorry for the confusion, carry on! The night is still young!”

As another cheer went up, Credence straightened up from his slump on Graves’ shoulder and took the mostly-liquefied ice pack off his cheek. Tori was right. The night wasn’t over yet, and he didn’t have to let Gellert ruin it for him. In fact, he was determined not to.

He looked between Artemis and Graves. “Hey, do you want to go see the garden? I hear it’s beautiful. Didn’t really get a chance to look at it yet,” he said resolutely. “I don’t want to end the night on such a sour note.”

Artemis smiled at him, lovely and sweet. “The garden sounds wonderful, darling.” She unfolded herself elegantly from the couch, the blanket falling away to reveal her figure, slender and lithe in the fitted red dress, pale legs flashing through the slit up the side.

“Graves?” Credence asked, turning to look at the man and hiding a smile at the wide eyed look on his face as he stared at Artemis in wonder.

“Yes, that’s… I’d love to,” he stammered. “Wow, I… I’m sorry, I’m just… You look incredible, Newt.”

She glowed with happiness, biting her lip. 

“She’s Artemis, tonight,” Credence corrected gently, pulling Graves to his feet.

“Oh,” he said reverently. “That’s fitting. Goddess of wild animals, right? And the moon.”

Her smile was luminous now, flushed and delighted. “Yes,” she breathed. “Exactly. It’s also my middle name, after my mother’s favorite Corgi at the time she was pregnant,” she said fondly. “She’s a bit ridiculous. Regardless, I like it.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Graves simply, holding her gaze for a long slow moment. “It suits you.”

Credence grinned as she blushed deeply, her eyelashes thick and dark as she demurred her gaze to the floor, genuinely bashful. 

“Well, Artemis,” Graves continued, “would you show us mere mortals where we may gaze at the moon and marvel at her serenity?”

Charmed, she giggled, carefully sliding her hand into his. Credence drank in the easy affection vibrating between the two of them, eagerly watching as Graves’ eyes sparkled, his hopeful smile locked on Artemis’ delicately flushed face. 

Oh, how that would’ve made him jealous, not so long ago. 

But now it did the opposite. He was buoyant with gladness, filled with long-awaited joy, something powerfully warm fluttering in his chest. It was enough to banish the clammy dull ache left in his stomach from the events of the past two hours and replace it with sweet anticipation.

Glancing shyly over her shoulder, Artemis led the two of them into the kitchen, where Credence had to detour to deposit his dripping ice pack back into the freezer.

“Thanks,” he said quietly to Tori, who had looked over from a conversation she was having with several friends to watch him in concern. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” She nodded, relief apparent in her face at the return of his good spirits.

Graves was eyeing the food table rather intently. “Did you eat anything yet today?” Credence asked, realizing suddenly that he himself was ravenous, his appetite fully returned. Dinner seemed like it had been hours and hours ago.

“A bit of toast this morning, before, well… and then I had an apple and a bit of my neighbor’s leftover spaghetti, but I didn’t want to take much time to eat. Didn’t know what was going on, but I just had a feeling I needed to get here as fast as possible.” 

Well. He must be starving. That wouldn’t do. “Artemis, do you mind if we…” Credence nodded toward the food.

“Course not, darling. I could eat. I’d like another of those pastries of yours, too.” Oh! He had forgotten those were here. 

The food table had been pretty well picked over by this hour, but as the three of them filled their plates they found plenty to keep them happy. There were a few lone chocolate dragons left, along with two mostly empty trays of little caramel-drizzled apple tarts and tiny pumpkin pies. On the savory side, there were small golden mini-quiches and finger sandwiches alongside crisp fluffy French bread and several kinds of fancy-looking spreads and tapenades, and that was just one end of the table. Artemis was at the other end, happily helping herself to some sort of roasted vegetable salad with walnuts while Graves had gone straight for the sandwiches and was already munching on his second one. Credence wandered over to try several little sausages on sticks, then a delicious little potato pancake with applesauce and some roasted carrots glazed in honey. Ooh, and breaded shrimp, and some kind of tiny dumplings stuffed with herbs and cheese, and then one of those lovely little pumpkin pies.

It was all staggeringly good, and the excess of it all would’ve made Ma want to scream. He wondered if Jacob had had a chance to sample all of this, and if it had given him any ideas. They really ought to make some sort of pumpkin flavored pastry in the bakery for the fall, maybe in the shape of a cat. That would certainly make Zoey happy.

The three of them managed to find room in their stomachs for rather more food than they’d thought, and then, quite warm and satisfied, they meandered into the ballroom, where the dancing had slowed to something more relaxed. The band was playing a vintage-sounding love song, charming and smooth, and Credence caught sight of Jacob twirling Queenie out on the floor, coaxing a glowing smile onto her face. My goodness, he seemed to know how to dance well, too, leading her skillfully through a foxtrot, the two of them looking elegant and comfortable in each other’s arms. Yep, she was going to want to hold on to him for sure.

Artemis had followed his gaze. “They look very happy, don’t they,” she said softly.

Credence realized he was beaming, the last bit of tension from earlier in the evening melting away. “Yep. I’m definitely hoping it sticks. He’s one of a kind.”

“Isn't that your boss?” Graves asked quietly. “He seemed like a nice guy. What was his name again? Jacob?”

“You remembered,” said Credence delightedly. 

“Yes, well, yesterday morning was quite memorable. In a number of ways,” Graves said carefully, and Credence blushed. “But most of what I remember from dropping you off at work was how jealous I was that your co-workers got to see you all day and I had to leave. I had to give myself a stern lecture on not being too clingy when I saw that tall guy tugging on your ponytail. Seemed like he was flirting with you.”

“Oh?” said Artemis, eyes ever so slightly narrowed.

“Uh,” said Credence awkwardly. “Yeah, that was Andrei. Turns out he actually was flirting with me, but I hadn’t noticed until yesterday, when one of my coworkers told him I had a boyfriend so that he’d stop.” He blinked, flustered, unexpectedly pinned by both of their keen stares. “Um… He’s perfectly nice, just enthusiastic. We’ve set the record straight now, and he knows I don’t think of him like that. We are just friends.”

“I see.” Graves looked like he was hiding a small triumphant smile. “And how did your coworker know you had a boyfriend?”

They had drifted past the dancers now and were breathing in the fragrant perfume of the conservatory, wandering between the potted plants draped with strings of lights.

“Oh, she’s the one that was at the counter when you and I came in. We were holding hands, and then she probably saw me kiss you goodbye,” Credence explained. “So… she assumed. And I was happy to let her.” 

The three of them slipped outside, strolling behind the relative privacy of a tall hedge, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by the floral scent of the garden. Credence hesitantly leaned in and kissed Graves, soft and slow, feeling the reassuring gentleness of his lips. It was so different from Gellert, an easy familiar fit. So much more right.

When they pulled apart, Artemis was watching them, her eyes wide and slightly uncertain. “Of course,” Credence continued, “if she were to say that again, I would have to correct her. It should be boyfriends, plural. Well, if you like that word. Or lovers, or anything else you’d rather be.” Tentatively, he slid his arm around Artemis’ narrow waist, pulling her close as well. “What do you think, beautiful?”

Her smile glowed in the moonlight, dark lips very red in her pale face, full of eagerness and hope. “I like the sound of either one, darling,” she said, her voice low and melodic. He couldn’t help but kiss her, tenderly, curious if she could taste Graves on his lips, resting his palm in the small of her back and thrilling at the casual possessiveness of her hand on his chest.

When they turned to look at Graves, Artemis’ lipstick reddening Credence’s mouth, they found him looking spellbound, his lips slightly parted and his eyes dark with interest, glinting in the light of the garden lanterns. “Oh, that’s right,” purred Credence, “Graves, I don’t think you’ve gotten any of the texts I sent today.” He had one arm comfortably looped around each of them now, the press of their bodies warm against both sides. 

“So, last night went quite well,” he went on, nuzzling Artemis’ cheek. “We all seem to be on the same page, I think.” He grinned slyly at Graves, watching his eyes lock on Artemis’ face.

“Really?” the man breathed. “You’re interested? In… dating both of us at once?” She nodded, smiling, breathtakingly beautiful, and Graves reached out a hand to stroke through her long red hair, thumb brushing over the smooth skin of her cheek, dotted with freckles. “Oh, you… God, that’s amazing. I’m so…” And then they were kissing, happy and eager, and Credence got to watch.

Their tour through the garden turned into a giddy, stumbling walk among the hedges punctuated by numerous pauses to tuck themselves into a shadowy corner and trade increasingly bold kisses, Credence reveling in the feeling of sliding his tongue shyly into Artemis’ mouth while Graves pressed tight against his back and nibbled at his ear, or snuggling against Artemis’ side while she snogged Graves, the man’s hand possessively cupping Credence’s ass while Credence got to nuzzle her throat and slide his hand along the silky skin of her arms. 

They re-emerged into the moonlight only to double over with laughter at the smears of lipstick on all of their faces, Artemis fishing in her bra for a wipe and gently cleaning them up, which led to Credence surreptitiously fondling her breasts while she giggled and pretended to scold him. They folded back into the shadows behind a rose bush, Graves gently turning Credence’s chin so that their tongues could reacquaint themselves, the rasp of stubble contrasting to the softness of his lips. Artemis had foregone putting any more lipstick on, which of course meant they could both conveniently take turns kissing her again, which somehow turned into a playful game of tag, Graves and Credence chasing a shrieking Artemis and then covering her with kisses.

The three of them, panting, ended up entwined on a bench, Credence and Graves pressed together with Artemis scooped into their lap, her arms around Credence’s neck and her legs draped across Graves, his hand mischievously creeping up her silk-covered thigh.

“Mmm, so smooth,” he purred, sliding his fingers under the slit in her dress. “Credence, are your legs this soft too?”

“Uh huh,” Credence replied, mesmerized by the way Artemis bit her lip and spread her legs slightly, inviting Graves’ hand a bit higher. “I sent you a picture, but you probably didn’t get it.”

“A picture?” Graves moaned. “Fuck, baby.”

“It’s a shame you lost your phone,” he said matter-of-factly. “But the real thing is much better anyway.” He turned and caught Graves’ mouth with his own, losing himself in the intoxicating feeling of his lips and the slide of his tongue. Eventually pulling back, he panted, “How angry do you think Sera would be if we, um…” he bit his lip, unsure, wondering if this was a tacky question to ask. Was it presumptuous that he wanted to go upstairs and pick a bedroom in which to show Graves his smooth legs? For starters.

“What, sweetheart?” Graves asked gently, bumping their noses together. “You want to go somewhere we can have some privacy? I don’t think she’d mind, if you’re sure you want to.”

He did, very much, despite what had happened earlier. Someone else’s crass behavior wasn’t going to prevent him from going after his own happiness, dammit.

“I… I’ve been looking forward to tonight,” he confessed. “It’s… not that we have to even do anything intimate. I just… I want to be alone with you two. If you wanted. Artemis, what do you think?”

She smiled at the two of them, eyes dark in the moonlight. “Oh, I’m in. I was planning on staying the night anyway, I arranged it with Tori. My overnight things are already up in one of the rooms on the third floor. I think there’d be space for a couple of extra guests too, the bed is enormous.” Credence was suddenly picturing the three of them naked and twined together in bed, a delicious warm landscape of skin and hair and freckles to explore with his tongue. His prick had already been keenly interested in all the kissing and groping that was going on, and now it perked up even more, pressing into Artemis’ ass. 

“Oh, my,” she breathed, “Mmm. I think someone likes that idea.”

“Is that so?” rumbled Graves, sliding his arm behind Credence’s shoulders and kissing his neck. His other hand was still stroking Artemis’ thigh, tracing the lower half of her phoenix tattoo.

“Oooh, yes, and I think his interest just got a bit… firmer. My goodness, love, that’s… Ah.” She wriggled a bit on his lap and Credence gasped. “Quite a healthy well-proportioned boy, aren’t you darling?”

“He certainly is,” Graves purred, watching her hungrily as she arched her back, pressing more firmly against Credence’s cock, her eyes dark and her pink lips parted. “I can attest to that.”

She grinned, sly and predatory. “Ah, you’ve already started without me, I see. Well, that’s alright, as long as I get a chance to catch up.” She hopped off their laps, pulling Credence up to standing and then kissing him deeply, her tongue sliding against his. “Shall we go in?” she whispered against his lips, turning to kiss Graves as well.

Clinging together, the three of them wound back through the garden, the cold making Credence press tighter into Graves’ side. They rounded a high trellis covered with thick sprawling vines and abruptly found themselves at the pool, the warm water producing a thick atmosphere of steam in the night air. Blue light illuminated a small group of people still splashing their feet at the edge, several others grouped around the lawn chairs with their hot drinks, bundled up in towels and blankets and engaged in some sort of card game.

One woman looked up and did a double-take when she saw the three of them emerging from the shadows, their slightly rumpled appearance making it clear what they had been up to. “Oh my God,” she said, with the air of someone who has just witnessed something that made her question reality. “That is just not fair. When did this happen?” She nudged the man next to her, and his jaw dropped.

“Holy shit! Uhm. Hi Boss. Having a good night?” 

Credence now recognized the vampire and the water nymph from earlier, both wrapped in thick towels. He snuggled closer to Graves as the man raised an eyebrow and replied smoothly. “Weiss. I’m sure you and Fontaine have better things to do than ponder the quality of my evening, don’t you?”

Fontaine snorted. “Not really, although I appreciate that you remembered my name this time.”

“What?” Graves stared at her, perplexed. “You’ve worked for me for years. How could I possibly forget your name?” 

Credence gently brushed his fingers over the man’s wrist. “That wasn’t you,” he whispered.

“Ah.” Graves looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Hang on, didn’t you have a costume before?” asked Fontaine, tilting her head. “Like, Zorro, or something? Black outfit?”

Credence could see Graves’ brow furrowing, perhaps trying to decide whether or not to tell his employees the truth about what had happened. In the end, he seemed to decide to go with an abbreviated version.

“Actually,” he said tightly. “That man in the costume before was my twin brother, pulling a prank that was in very poor taste.” For a moment, they just stared at him, like they were waiting for a punch line. Instead, he went on solemnly, “I apologize if he was rude to any of you. I was not aware until tonight that he was even in the country. We’ll be having a meeting on Monday to fill you in on what to do if he ever shows up at MACUSA, including ways to distinguish the two of us so we can avoid a potential security breach.”

Fontaine and Weiss, along with their two fellow card-players, now all looked shocked. “Your brother?” asked the woman Credence thought might’ve been named Lopez. “The one exiled from the company?” Her eyes were very wide.

“Yes,” Graves said shortly.

“I kind of always thought that was just a rumor, it was so shrouded in mystery,” said Weiss, sounding fascinated. “The evil twin sounds like such a cliché, but there are really two of you?” he breathed, his eyes going a little dreamy. 

Lopez elbowed him in the ribs.

“There’s a reason we don’t talk much about him,” added the fourth card-player sharply, her blue eyes narrowed. “He did some seriously illegal shit and poses a legitimate threat to MACUSA. I only met him a couple times and he was a total dick. Um, if you don’t mind me saying, Boss.”

“No, I completely agree, Fischer,” Graves said, his voice crisp. “My brother is a jackass. And has proven himself tonight to be quite unstable.” None of them seemed surprised at his foul language, several making expressions of sympathy.

Credence abruptly noticed that Fontaine was looking deeply uncomfortable, a frown of dawning understanding spreading across her face as her eyes landed on him. “Oh. So… Oh, shit. He was the one macking on you before in the hall, huh? And you didn’t know he was the wrong brother.” 

He could feel a flush spreading hot across his cheeks, unable to meet her pitying gaze. Graves wrapped an arm around his waist, comfortingly tight and secure.

“Okay, that’s messed up, on his part,” Weiss said with emotion. “He used you.” 

“Damn it,” put in Fontaine suddenly, “I wish I had… I dunno. Something did seem off, I should’ve said something. The real Graves would never forget my name, I know that.”

Graves’ eyes softened fractionally with something like gratitude. “I should’ve put you all on your guard,” he said roughly, “warned you, so you would’ve had an inkling this might be a possibility.” The words sounded like they were grinding him down as they came out. He looked at Credence, regret heavy in the lines of his face, and Credence couldn’t help but wrap his arms around Graves’ torso in an attempt to comfort him, resting their foreheads together.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured. “Please don’t blame yourself, don’t let it eat at you.” Credence’s fingers twined themselves idly with Artemis’, on Graves’ other side, squeezing her hand. “Regret makes you suffer all over again, right?” Artemis smiled at him over Graves’ shoulder.

“That’s what I’ve always thought.” Her soft voice was soothing and lovely. “We can’t change things now,” she sighed. “There will just have to be a few bad memories left over from tonight, no way around it. But we can make sure he doesn’t get the satisfaction of ruining our evening completely.” 

“That’s the spirit!” interjected Lopez. 

“Absolutely,” added Weiss, “Halloween is for having fun!”

“Hear, hear!” hollered someone from the edge of the pool, though they hadn’t heard any of what led up to that pronouncement. “Halloween! Woo!”

This prompted an answering cheer from some of the people out in the garden, and Artemis shrugged, Graves rolling his eyes. “Come on,” he said lowly, “let’s go inside and warm up.” He kissed Credence’s forehead and then Artemis’ cheek as he tugged the three of them toward the door back in to the conservatory.

“That’s just fucking adorable,” Credence heard Fontaine say behind them, her voice growing distant. “And really unfair. How did he land both of those sweethearts at once?”

Weiss sighed gustily. “He knows how to be charming, apparently, which is kind of surreal. And he’s getting twice as much action as I am.”

“Wouldn’t you have to be getting any action for that to be the case?” teased Lopez.

“I think it’s cute,” came the voice of the other woman, Fischer. “He doesn’t do anything half-assed, does he? And they seem to be happy…” The rest of her reply was cut off by the music of the ballroom as they re-entered the conservatory and wound their way through the glittering plants toward the door swirling with dancing couples.

Credence spotted Tina and Sera on the dance floor as they flashed past in a whirl of leather and the shine of Tina’s smile. So, that was going well. Amused, he noted that both Artemis and Graves seemed to have noticed too, their expressions registering a mix of surprise and fondness.

“Told you it wasn’t me Sera was winning over,” Credence said teasingly to Graves, who chuckled. 

Artemis looked sheepish. “Goodness, and here I was getting jealous over nothing.” She laughed softly. “I can see why you found it so funny when I thought you were talking about dating Sera. Oh, they look wonderful together. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your cousin smile so wide!”

They slipped further through the still-crowded room, noting, however, that it did seem to have emptied slightly. A petite woman dressed as a leopard was yawning as she passed them, and Credence was helpless not to catch her yawn, his sleepiness only temporarily kept at bay.

“When was this?” Graves was asking Artemis, intrigued. “You thought Credence was interested in Sera?”

She flushed, nodding, as they traveled through the kitchen, passing Queenie and Jacob in animated discussion at the food table. “When he told me you two had talked about dating a third person, someone both of you were attracted to, I… I was a bit distraught actually. It was bad enough when you were just dating each other; I couldn’t bear the idea of losing both of you to someone else, even a friend.” She looked shyly at Graves over her shoulder as they meandered into the living room. “You see, you and Tori had been laughing and roughhousing, and she always acts affectionate toward Credence, and then Sera appeared, looking like she wanted to eat him right up, and I knew you were very close to her, and I thought…”

“You thought the third person we were talking about was one of them,” finished Graves, a soft smile playing around his lips.

“Well, yes, and I would’ve understood if it had been,” she said, sounding a bit pained. “They’re both incredible.” Credence impulsively wound his arms around her from behind, surprising her with a kiss on the cheek as he squeezed her gently, affection bubbling out of him like an overflowing cauldron.

“ _You’re_ incredible,” he murmured, holding her tight and kissing the smiling flush of her cheeks.

He reluctantly let go of her waist as they headed toward the stairs, passing Andromeda in conversation with Abernathy, who gave Graves a respectful nod as they went by.

“You’ll have to tell me the whole story some time, of how that conversation went,” Graves said, low and intrigued, as they ascended the stairs to the second floor.

Artemis shot Credence a sweet, crafty grin. “Oh, we will. I think you’ll especially enjoy the fact we were mostly naked in the bath at the time. I was showing Credence how to shave, and then he mentioned your straight razor and we started talking about how hot you were, and then came the misunderstandings and finally the happy conclusion.”

Graves raised his eyebrows as his mouth fell open, looking like he had gotten stuck on one of the parts of that sentence, though Credence wasn’t sure which. “You… oh,” he managed, sounding desperately aroused. “Yes… I’d like to hear more about all of that, but especially you two in the bath together and what… um. What you had to say on the topic of me being hot.” He cleared his throat.

They were passing the second floor landing now, and Credence focused on watching the sway of Artemis’ hips above him instead of looking at the spot in the hallway where Gellert had kissed him, or the place he had been standing when he’d panicked and the man had hit him in the face. Artemis was smiling, her eyes flirtatious and delighted as she looked back at Graves.

She giggled. “Alright, darling, and I’d like to hear all about why yesterday morning was so memorable. I’m guessing you had Credence over for a sleepover,” she said slyly. “And I would be horribly jealous if it weren’t for the fact that we all get to have our own sleepover tonight.”

They had reached the third floor, and Artemis pulled them toward a door down at the end of the hallway to the left, next to a small bathroom. Her waist looked so small under Graves’ large hand as he pressed against her hip and hungrily kissed her neck. 

She paused just inside the doorway, her head falling back and her smiling eyes finding Credence’s where he stood frozen in the dark hall.

He had a surreal moment of déjà vu, flashing all the way back to the night he first saw Newt, effortless and beautiful, the long column of his white throat stretched upward in his yoga pose and a shy, irresistible smile on his face. His eyes had slid toward Credence, pressed up against the glass in the shadows of the gym hallway, and the brush of his gaze had sparked something vital. Something that, despite the fact Credence had scurried away in embarrassment, had flamed hotter and hotter. Just a feeling, really. The sense that there was something incredible he was missing out on by letting his fear get the better of him, that there was more to be had on the other side of his comfort zone, on the other side of that wall of glass, invisible and impenetrable. There was more to be had in his life, and maybe Newt was the key to finding it.

Now, staring at that same elegant throat and those same lips stretched in a gorgeous, genuine smile, Credence thought perhaps he’d found exactly what he was looking for. He didn’t spare a single thought for Gellert or any of the sour tendrils of the past that often crept around his soul. They were gone now, exorcised by Artemis’ smile. 

Instead he strode into the room after her, snapping the door shut behind him and locking it firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you wonderful readers. You stuck with me through the angst, and the fallout afterward, and now it's just gonna be sweet and sexy, I promise.
> 
> Also, apologies if the police stuff is totally inaccurate. I've got no clue how arrests really work. Just wanted to put Grindelwald in handcuffs.
> 
> ALSO! I had a vague thought in the back of my mind that maybe Graves bought a last-minute Westley costume because he asked Tina via text what Credence's favorite movie was, and she told him Princess Bride. (But Gellert didn't know that, he just threw on what Graves was planning to wear and missed the sword that was tucked away in the back of the closet, the dickhead.)
> 
> Ha ha. I just thought I'd put that tidbit here in case it amuses you. I didn't end up working it into the story anywhere.


	19. Bird of Paradise

Once the door closed behind Credence, the three of them were submerged in a bubble of privacy. 

_Finally_. He cupped Artemis’ face in his hands, feeling a little overwhelmed. There was a desperate need squirming in his chest, a thrumming desire to kiss her everywhere, touch her, see every part of her, look into her eyes and fit himself inside her body and make a home in her heart. It was too large an emotion to lend itself to words, so he settled for kissing her instead, his hands shaking slightly as he devoured her mouth, a rush of heat rising molten in his belly at the feel of her thigh against his cock.

“Holy fuck,” He heard Graves say roughly, but Credence was a little too lost in the heat of Artemis’ mouth to respond, still processing intense arousal at the way she had pressed her entire muscular body against his. She made a soft noise of pleasure as he gripped her ass, hard, one slender leg wrapping itself around his hips. He was making quietly desperate whining sounds in return, clutching her tight, his hips twitching helplessly against her as the desire to penetrate made it difficult to concentrate on anything else. “That’s got to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You really want her bad, huh, baby?”

This dragged a moan out of Credence, his desire compounded by the fact that Graves was watching, that he got to have both of them close like this. He and Artemis pulled apart, panting, her eyes looking just as wild as he was feeling.

“Bloody hell, I’ve got to get out of my knickers,” she said, and Credence made a sort of involuntary rough growling sound that he’d never heard come out of his mouth before and impulsively ran his hand up her thigh, sliding under her dress.

“You want any help with that?” His voice came out crackling and breathless, horny and worshipful.

“I will in a moment, sweetness, I’ve just got to… Oh, that’s much better.” She had taken off her shoes, toes curling in pleasurable freedom on the soft carpet. Her nails were painted a dark red to match her fingertips, and as she sauntered over to the closet he caught a glimpse of the little platypus tattooed on her ankle. Catching Graves’ eye, Credence bit his lip, following close behind her like a duckling while the man grinned back at him. He was sitting elegantly on the bed, pulling off his own shoes, and he winked at Credence, who smiled shyly back and returned his attention to Artemis.

She appeared to be trying to unzip the top of the dress, her dexterous fingers sliding through the long fall of her hair and her shoulders flexing and stretching as she caught hold of the zipper and managed to tug the whole thing down at once. Credence was standing awkwardly close, but she didn’t seem to mind the way he was staring at the intricate lacing of her corset and the back of her bra, the top of her incredible tattoo visible above the fabric.

“Darling,” she said, soft and melodious. “Will you get me a hanger?” Then the dress was sliding down, and her long legs were bare, the curve of her ass covered by a pair of tight pink underwear. Credence scrambled to comply, absently noting that her overnight bag was open on the floor of the closet and there appeared to be a box of condoms stuffed next to her toothbrush. Carefully, he helped her drape the red gown over the wire hanger and place it in the closet, half-distracted by the delicate freckles on her chest against the black material of her bra. 

By the time he managed to drag his eyes away from her breasts, she was pulling off her fox ears to stow in her bag and then drifting back toward the bed. Graves was waiting for them, lounging comfortably against the headboard, his eyes intent. “You two look so beautiful together,” he said lowly. “I can’t get enough of just watching you.” Artemis’ cheeks turned slightly pink, her eyes glowing, and she crawled up onto the bed to kiss him, giving Credence an excellent view of her pert ass in those panties, and the tight way they compressed her more boyish parts in the front. That must be how she maintained the feminine illusion, then.

“Will you be joining us, love?” That little ass wiggled a bit back and forth, and Credence realized he’d been caught staring, her grin sly as she watched him over her shoulder. “Might want to take off your lovely boots first.”

Right. With some effort, he tore his eyes away from where Graves’ fingertips were drawing delicate circles on her shoulder and stooped to tug off his boots, his phone falling to the floor with a thud.

“Oh.” Yes, that was as good a reminder as any that he should really tell Tina where he was so she didn’t come looking for him later, worried that he still needed a ride home. “Um, I’ll be right there.” It took him a few tries to get the text typed out, since his hands were still a little shaky, but eventually he managed something semi-coherent that ought to do the trick.

_T, I won’t need a ride tonight. Spending the night in one of the guest bedrooms, and I can bus home tomorrow with Artemis. Don’t worry, I’m alright, I promise. Sorry I didn’t text sooner, hope I didn’t delay you going home if you’re tired._

He put his phone on a shelf in the closet, blushing a bit as he bent to pull his leggings off as well, the sight of his shaven legs just as exotic as it had been that morning. He was about to head toward the bed when there was an answering ping from his text alert.

_Bambi, don’t worry, you didn’t delay me. I hope you sleep well. Here’s a virtual hug from me, I never really got to give you one after what happened earlier. But it seemed like Artemis was taking care of that :)_

Huffing softly, Credence typed out _Hugs back at you_ , then carefully silenced his phone and put it with his boots in the closet. He didn’t want any further interruptions tonight. There had been enough setbacks already.

When he finally turned to look back at the bed, the duvet was pushed down and Graves and Artemis were slowly making out, her slender form perched in his lap and his hand buried between her smooth thighs. The pink panties were tangled around one slim ankle, and Credence almost choked on his tongue at the sight.

“Darling, I’m afraid I got impatient,” gasped Artemis as Graves’ wrist flexed. “Credence, love, your kisses got me quite… ohh… a bit too excited to fit comfortably in these.” She reached vaguely for her underwear, managing to throw them over the side of the bed while her hips twitched under Graves’ caress. “They work wonders for shaping, but it can get a bit tight and uncomfortable after a point.” The man’s forearm twisted, and whatever he was doing made her squirm and mewl.

Suddenly feeling desperately far away from the action and much too hot, Credence impulsively shucked his costume as well and hung it up next to Artemis’ dress, feeling shivery but bold as he clambered eagerly onto the bed in nothing but his own straining briefs. Up close, he could see the tendons tensing in the hollows of her hips, the lean muscle bunching in her legs as she twisted across Graves’ lap to kiss Credence, giving him a glimpse of her flushed, swollen arousal cupped in Graves’ hand before he was lost in the taste of her mouth. Her long hair tickled his bare chest as he pressed closer, running a hand over the laces of her corset.

Graves was watching them, a smoldering look on his face, and Credence couldn’t resist kissing him next, the denim of his jeans rough against Credence’s smooth legs. “You look a little overdressed,” Credence murmured against his lips, sliding curious fingers along the skin-warm fabric of his tee shirt.

“I do, don’t I?” purred Graves, letting go of Artemis to pull his shirt off and give them both an eyeful of smooth tanned skin and dark hair over dense muscle.

“Oh my,” Artemis said quietly, shuffling out of the way so that Graves could unzip his jeans and kick them off. Credence kissed her shoulder, his eyes feasting on the incredible view of Graves in nothing but a pair of dark boxers, his muscular thighs covered with fine dark hair. “Mmm.”

“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Credence breathed, pressing his groin against her hip and watching eagerly as one of her pale elegant hands trailed delicately over the man’s muscular chest, red fingernails dragging through the dark curls between his pecs. It was a tingling thrill, the contrast between Graves’ body hair and Newt’s soft smooth skin. Credence absently ran a hand up his own calf, expecting it to be just as smooth and soft as hers.

He made a petulant sound of shock when it was not.

Artemis’ hand froze. “What’s wrong, baby?” Graves said gently, both of them immediately looking at him in concern.

Credence flushed hot, his mouth working for a moment before any words came out. “Um. It’s nothing, I just…” He was aware he was pouting. “Why…” He ran his hand up his leg again. It was _prickly_. “I thought I’d be smooth still.” They’d just shaved a little more than twenty four hours ago.

“Oh, darling.” Artemis looked like she was trying not to smile. “Love, it’s normal, but I know exactly what you mean. Hair grows frustratingly fast.” Oh. “It’s not possible to stay smooth all the time unless you wax, and I draw the line at subjecting myself to that much pain for the sake of aesthetics. I’m sorry, love, if I had known for sure we'd be having _this_ much fun tonight, I could’ve warned you to do a touch-up this afternoon. Only if you wanted to, of course. We like your legs whether they’re smooth or not.”

“Oh,” he said, still feeling a bit miffed at his own body. He’d wanted Graves to be able to touch him and feel what he’d felt last night.

“Sweetheart,” Graves rumbled, sitting up straighter so that he could brush a lock of hair behind Credence’s ear. “I’m still enjoying it, very much. You both look incredible, and your skin is so nice and soft if you stroke downward, see?”

Mmm. Actually, that was quite nice. Graves’ large hands were guiding his palm down in the direction of the hair growth, and he couldn’t feel any stubble at all. Then the man’s hands were sliding further over Credence’s legs, warm and possessive, and he couldn’t help but shiver with pleasure. He bit his lip, a breathy whimper escaping.

“Feel good?” Graves purred, and Credence melted a little at the wonderful low richness of his voice. His strong fingers massaged down Credence’s thighs and squeezed the muscles of his calves again, his eyes intent. “God, I could just touch your legs forever. Both of you.”

With that, their paused momentum seemed to abruptly return, Artemis grinning and nudging Credence to resume grinding against her slender hip, kissing him wetly while her hands caressed Graves’ chest. After several moments of snogging, she gasped suddenly into Credence’s mouth, her body tensing as she let out a blissful moan, pulling kiss-swollen lips away to clutch desperately at Graves’ arm, which had wrapped around behind her, a little tube of lubricant in his free hand. “Oh fuck,” she said softly, and the curse sent a shiver through Credence’s body. “Mmm.”

“Where did the lube come from?” Credence asked dumbly, staring in shocked arousal as Graves parted her ass cheeks.

Graves’ eyes were dark, locked on Artemis’ face as his fingers rubbed over her entrance. Credence leaned back so he could see better, the tight pink hole now wet with lube and quivering under his touch. “Tucked in that cute little bra,” Graves said hungrily. “You came prepared, didn’t you, baby. I can’t believe how hot it is that you were thinking ahead.”

Perhaps Graves had a bit of an organization kink too, just like Credence. Artemis’ hips were twitching, pressing back into his fingers, her lips parted in a moan as the tip of one of his fingers breached her, toying with the pink stretch of her rim. “Ohh, that feels so…” Her nails dug in lightly where they were clutching Graves’ bicep, eyelashes fluttering, her other hand confidently touching herself, working rhythmically between her thighs.

“Credence?” Graves’ voice was a gravely purr, and it snapped him out of a daze. Credence wasn’t sure how long he’d just been sitting there frozen, feeling like his heart was hammering in his ears, watching the slide of the man’s fingers in and out of Artemis’ ass while his brain short-circuited.

The noise he made in answer might’ve sounded something like “Nnnh,” barely more than a breathless whimper.

Graves chuckled, setting the lube aside to rub a soothing hand over Credence’s back with his free hand. “Angel, you want to just watch or join in? Either one is alright. You look a little overwhelmed.”

Credence took a deep breath, letting it out slowly while Graves’ hand drew comforting circles on his skin. He was overwhelmed. But he also really wanted to join in. Artemis was watching him too, her arousal bobbing between her thighs, flushed a delicate pink, and Credence _wanted_. “Can I…” he managed, reaching for the little tube on the bed next to Graves, eyes locked on her green ones, ringed with lovely long eyelashes and dark with desire. “Would you like my hand too?”

She smiled at him, sleek and full of pleasure. “Absolutely, darling. You put your hands wherever you like.”

Biting his lip, Credence fumbled the lid off the small tube and coated his palm with slippery lubricant, squirming into a better position so that he was curled against Graves’ side with Artemis within easy reach. She gasped a little when he wrapped his fingers around her swollen length, leaning in to kiss her as his mind buzzed with the feel of incredibly soft skin over hard arousal, throbbing in his hand. It was another moment in which he knew that pleasuring himself alone would never hold a candle to the real thing, just like when Graves had touched his cock for the first time. It was different, more intense, more powerful than he could’ve ever imagined, to be allowed to please her like this. 

He did his best to imitate the rhythm he liked best on himself, watching her face raptly for subtle signs of reaction to the twist of his wrist at the top of each stroke and the ticklish graze of his fingers over the shaft. The latter didn’t get much of a response, but she moaned in helpless appreciation when he paid special attention to the ridge around the head, and she seemed to like it best when he kept changing things up. He remembered how good it felt to have Graves touch him, and how thrilling it was to experience a sensation that was unpredictable and came attached to a whole other mind and body. Graves himself was now leaning closer to Credence, trailing kisses up his neck and jaw, one hand still comfortably playing with Artemis’ rim while the other arm remained wrapped around Credence, his fingertips drawing lazy circles on Credence’s hip as he watched Artemis whimper and thrust into his grip.

She was quite flushed now, her cheeks and pale chest adorably pink, one hand still palming Graves’ bicep and then skating over his shoulder muscle as it flexed with the motion of his hand. Her breath was coming in short gasps, lashes fluttering as her hips jerked minutely into the circle of Credence’s fist. “Mmm, you’re… Ooh, you’re good at that, pet. Both of you. Feels so good all at once, I can’t… Mmh, can’t quite think.”

“Really?” Credence couldn’t help whispering, speeding up his hand slightly in his enthusiasm. She whimpered and braced herself on Graves’ solid chest, mouth falling open.

“Does that surprise you?” she gasped. “Darling, you’re going to make me come and I haven’t even gotten to touch you yet,” she pouted. 

“Oh,” he breathed, slowing his hand. “You want to?”

The look she gave him was full of fond affection. “Sweetheart, I’ve been dreaming about it for some time now. Only if you feel you’re ready of course.” In answer, Credence squeaked excitedly, letting go of her to yank his briefs off and fling them happily over the side of the bed almost before she’d finished talking. His cock slapped against his stomach, eager and buoyant, and he scooted in close again on his knees to patiently await her further instructions. 

She stared at him for a second, wide eyes drawn to his erection like a magnet, and then the look she gave him was pure hunger. “Bloody hell, Credence, that was the hottest and most adorable display I have ever seen,” she said fervently, drawing him in for a filthy kiss during which her hand found his prick and his brain proceeded to melt out of his ears.

Her hand was still dry, but it was warm and calloused and strong as it gently cupped him, squeezing his balls and providing just enough friction against his sensitive cock and squirming hips to make him mewl with delight. There were another set of hands on his waist, maneuvering him backwards to sit down and then sliding up his belly to rub over his nipples, and Credence felt like he was floating in a warm haze of pleasure, surrounded on all sides by sensation. He blinked his eyes open dazedly when Artemis let go of his prick, realizing that part of the reason he was so comfortable and warm was that he was now reclined against Graves’ broad chest, seated between his muscular thighs. The man’s arms were wrapped around him snugly, just the way he liked it, and there were wet lips hungrily mouthing at his throat. 

Artemis was currently unclasping her bra, which he could now see was padded with some sort of gauzy fabric within which she’d cleverly stashed all number of supplies. Including condoms. “My darling,” she said breathlessly, graceful strong fingers now unlacing her corset, popping open the hooks in the front once she’d gotten enough slack to do so. It fell to the side in a heap of black lace, along with her bra. “Would you let me get my mouth on that delectable cock?”

He wheezed for a second, so aroused he could barely breathe. “Yes, please,” he finally managed, voice cracking. Graves chuckled against his ear, and Credence desperately clutched at the man’s knees for support, turning his head to beg for a kiss. He heard the crinkle of foil while Graves’ tongue flicked into his mouth, warm lips and the rasp of stubble. Then there were hands expertly holding his erection in place while Artemis bent her head, and Credence turned to watch in amazement as she rolled the condom on with her mouth.

“Holy shit,” Graves breathed, and Credence wholeheartedly agreed. Her mouth was soft and impossibly hot, her tongue a dexterous slide of muscle, and she certainly knew what to do with it. His head fell back with a punched-out moan as she got the condom on securely and then began to suck, lips sliding up and down while her tongue wriggled under the head, delicately stimulating that spot in the front that was so sensitive. She took him in deeper, and he felt the tip of his prick hit the back of her throat, surrounded by wet heat and incredible suction.

“Oh my God,” he whimpered, while she proceeded to suck his brain out via his dick. 

His nerves felt like they were liquefying into molten hot pleasure, no conscious thoughts available to be spared for the embarrassingly incoherent things he was moaning about how amazing her mouth was. More ecstatic sensation sparked as Graves’ moistened fingers found his nipples again, pinching gently and loosening a hoarse cry from Credence’s throat.

He was already gasping, quivering on the edge of release, and when she cupped his balls in her hand, rolling them carefully in her palm and then squeezing lightly, there was no helping it any longer. He was whiting out in a messy wet blur of pleasure, gasping and arching his back and coming deep and hot and satisfying into that perfect warm mouth. There were several incoherent moments of heaving breath and shuddering whimpers as the orgasm rocketed through him in clenching pulses, before his senses slowly lumbered back online. He became aware that he had buried his face in Graves’ neck, and that he was still clutching the man’s legs tightly, nails probably biting into his skin. Artemis was gently kissing his thigh, her hand a soothing weight on his hip.

“Mmh,” he breathed, and she smiled up at him, green eyes crinkling beautifully. “Wow.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, love,” she purred, her voice slightly raspy. There was a ticklish, sticky feeling brushing against his softening cock and he realized she was sliding the condom off carefully, knotting the end and tossing it into the trash just like he’d imagined her doing in his fantasy weeks ago.

He let out a faint, shaky laugh as she crawled closer to nuzzle up his chest, her long hair tickling his belly as she kissed up the center of his sternum. Eagerly, he leaned forward and met her lips with his, tasting latex and sweat and the rich musk of her mouth. He kissed her hungrily, dragging his nails lightly down the lean muscles of her back to cup her ass, firm and tight.

“Fuck,” he heard Graves breathe softly next to his ear, almost inaudible. Credence could feel the man’s heart pounding where his chest was leaning against Credence’s back, his breathing slightly ragged. There was a hard bulge pressing hot and insistent against the base of his spine, and Graves’ hands were running over all the skin he could reach, Credence’s ribs, his thighs, Artemis’ chest and taut abdomen.

Credence broke the kiss with a final squeeze of Artemis’ ass, turning to nuzzle Graves’ cheek. “I think we’ve been neglecting you, huh?” he murmured.

“Are you kidding?” the man said roughly. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Baby, I don’t mind sitting back and watching you two go for it, I’m just glad I get to be here while it is happening.”

Artemis’ smile when she met Credence’s eyes was sly and predatory. She turned to Graves. “Hmm, darling, it sounds almost as if you think of yourself as a spectator rather than a participant. That’s not quite what I had in mind, considering I was hoping to ride your cock next.”

Credence grinned as Graves made a choked sound, his dick twitching against Credence’s lower back and his hand involuntarily tightening its grip on Artemis’ waist. “I think someone likes that idea,” Credence parroted smugly, sharing one last soft kiss with Artemis before clambering out of the way so she could straddle Graves’ lap.

“Do you?” she asked, soft and coy, wrapping her arms languidly around Graves’ neck and settling herself lightly on top of the straining bulge in his boxers. He was wearing an openly hungry expression, staring up at her in awe and sliding his hands over her thighs, her waist, her pert ass. “You’ll let me sit on that nice big prick?”

“Holy fuck, yes,” he growled, parting her ass cheeks and rubbing his fingertips once more over her wet pink hole. “Want to get inside you, spread you open, all hot and tight. Such a sweet little ass.” She moaned sharply as he thrust two fingers back inside her loosened hole, still partially relaxed from his fingering earlier. Gasping, she ground her hips tight against his stomach, whining into his mouth as they traded panting wet kisses. 

“Credence, love, would you be a doll and get the box of condoms from my bag,” she managed breathlessly after a few minutes of tantalizing frottage, and Credence tore wide eyes away from the damp pink clench of her asshole to scramble off the bed and yank the box out of the toiletry bag tucked in her duffle. When he came back, Graves appeared to have introduced some more lube and another finger, and Artemis was moaning, her back arched, as he sucked intently on her nipples. “Ohh, God. That’s… mmm.”

The picture they painted was impossibly arousing, and Credence’s mind was filled with a dull buzzing pleasure just watching the way her face slackened with enjoyment and her lashes fluttered, Graves’ eyes fixed on her face as he bit gently on one pink, hardened nipple. Feeling a little dizzy, Credence fumbled with the box, pulling out a wrapped condom and carefully ripping a corner of the foil open. Um, shoot, actually maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Graves didn’t even have his underwear off yet. Feeling a little unsure, Credence set the box aside and slid in behind Artemis as the two of them writhed, managing to slide his hands in between the tangle of limbs to find the sides of Graves’ hips and curl his fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

There was a wet sound and then a chuckle as Graves let go of Artemis’ slightly puffy nipple and looked at Credence over her shoulder. “I need to take those off, don’t I? But my hands are a little full. Were you going to help me, clever boy?” His lips were shiny and his pupils blown wide with arousal as Credence nodded, feeling suddenly shy. These two were both far more experienced than he was, and although he knew they were happy to include him however he wanted, it was difficult to figure out how to insert himself without feeling like he was getting in the way. 

But Graves was smiling at him, warm and delighted and affectionate, and Artemis had turned her head to press a kiss to his cheek. Credence nuzzled her neck, smelling the lovely perfume of her hair as he slid Graves’ boxers down his thighs, the man’s abdominals tightening as he raised his hips off the bed to help out.

“Mmm,” Artemis breathed, running her hands over the dense muscle of Graves’ stomach and chest, while Credence worked his boxers down his legs and flung them on the floor. “Fuck, you’re so bloody fit it’s not even funny.” She pinched Graves’ nipples lightly and the man gasped, muscles contracting again as his back arched. “You’re like a wet dream.” The man’s cock was rock hard, flushed and straining on his abdomen.

Eagerly, Credence once more straddled Graves’ lap and pressed against Artemis’ back, kissing her shoulder and whispering, “He is, isn’t he? And you haven’t even seen how hot he looks in a suit.”

“Ooh, I look forward to that,” she said fervently, gasping lightly as Credence stroked his hands up her ticklish inner thighs. Graves’ wrist brushed against Credence’s rapidly re-awakening prick as he resumed thrusting his fingers into Artemis’ hole, her head falling back onto Credence’s shoulder as she moaned, body arching. Feeling a bit shaky with wonder, Credence took the opportunity to kiss her throat and run his hands over her tight belly and the smooth muscles of her chest, the vibration of her voice humming against his lips. She groaned when his fingers skated over her sensitive nipples, massaging gentle circles around the wet, aroused skin.

“Oh fuck,” she breathed. “Alright, darling, did you find the box?” Pressing his smile into her neck, Credence nodded, carefully scooping up the opened condom packet and sliding the slippery round roll of latex out of the foil. “Oh, well done, sweetheart, do you want to put it on him too?”

Graves was staring up at both of them from where he was partially reclined against the pillows, looking like he’d never seen anything like them before in his life. “Oh my God,” he muttered, eyes so dark with arousal that their warm amber brown could barely be seen at all. “I knew this would be hot, but I… Just, this is… mmh…” He watched raptly, biting his lip, as Credence carefully fished the tube of lubricant out of the blankets and squirted a small bit into the tip of the condom while Artemis took hold of the thick base of Graves’ cock. Making sure he had the correct side facing up, Credence lightly pinched the tip and rolled the latex over the rock-hard length. He put a bit more lube in his hand and did his best to coat the entire phallus until it was gleaming with slick, beautifully obscene and ready to go in her ass.

“There we go,” Artemis murmured proudly, kissing Credence on the cheek again. “You did that perfectly. Good boy.”

Out of nowhere, Credence let out an involuntary whimper, shuddering slightly at the sound of that lovely gentle voice saying those words. It would seem he had unexpectedly acquired a kink for her approval.

“Oh,” she whispered in surprise. “Did you like that, pet?” He clung to her, hiding his face in her shoulder in embarrassment. “Darling! It’s alright,” she said soothingly. “Oh, sweetness, we don’t have to pursue it if you don’t want to, but you just let me know if you’d like me to say anything in particular later on.”

Graves’ free hand was rubbing calming circles on Credence’s thigh, and he shook off his momentary discomfiture and withdrew to look at them both, cheeks still flaming. “Okay,” he breathed.

Artemis beamed at him, and Graves’ hand tightened momentarily, squeezing Credence’s hip gently. “Alright,” Artemis continued, squirming forward slightly. Graves’ fingers made a wet sound as they slid out of her asshole, both hands coming to clutch her waist as she positioned herself above his cock. Holy shit, this was really about to happen. Credence could barely breathe, scooting back with wide eyes to watch raptly as Artemis guided the head of Graves’ prick to nudge against her relaxed hole, her thighs tensed as she slowly lowered herself. The thick tip of his erection pressed bluntly up, forcing her rim to stretch open wide, lubricant easing the way as his cock pushed in slowly. She was panting, sweat glimmering in the small of her back, toes curled into the duvet. “Mmn…” Graves’ brow was furrowed with concentration, face screwed up with overwhelming pleasure. He looked like he was trying not to come.

Credence could relate. Artemis, like this, was the hottest thing he had ever seen. Confidently, she arched her back, sliding down on his prick a little more, taking what she wanted. Her tattoos glistened on her damp skin, pink nipples perked in her pale chest, that luminous body dotted with beautiful freckles. Her arousal stood hot and flushed against the tight curve of her lower abdomen, lean muscles tensing in her belly as her chest rose and fell with each breath and her long lashes fluttered with pleasure.

Holy fuck.

While Credence stared, she continued to press herself down into Graves’ lap until she was fully seated, grinding her hips in little circles that made Graves groan and shout hoarsely, his head falling back onto the pillows and the tendons standing out in his neck. “Fuck! Oh, fuck,” he growled. His grip on her narrow waist was white-knuckled, breath coming in heaving gasps, his hips finding the leverage to thrust up into the tight heat of her body. 

The two of them together were so incandescently sexy that Credence felt as if his eyes ought to be on fire. It was so good it was almost overwhelming, the way Artemis whimpered when Graves began to thrust rhythmically, his pelvis snapping up as she braced herself on his shoulders. After a few wild heaving bounces, her center of gravity shifted and she seemed to take control, leaning forward and getting her knees firmly planted on the mattress so she could begin to ride him in earnest, sweeping her long hair over her shoulder and grinning down at Graves.

Credence watched the flex of her ass and the fluid, practiced motion of her hips with his mouth open, not sure whether he would ever be able to look at her without getting an immediate boner ever again. Forget going to yoga class, any glimpse of her skin, her smile, her ass, her thighs, heck, even her bare feet was going to immediately bring him back to this moment and make him hard as a diamond. And those yoga pants didn’t hide very much either.

Their tempo was picking up, Credence staring transfixed as Artemis began to touch herself, eyelids fluttering shut. “Oh… Ohh…” she was crying, joyous and enthralling in her pleasure, one hand bracing herself on Graves’ shoulder while the other flew over her stiff arousal, bicep clenching, her whole body shuddering slightly, fist moving rapidly in tempo with the movement of her hips.

Graves’ hands were clutching her ass cheeks now, spreading them open to allow himself to grind in deeper. Her rhythm was faltering as she neared her orgasm, hips stuttering, and Graves fucked her all the harder through it, planting his feet firmly on the bed and thrusting up. Graves and Credence watched her intently as she gasped and trembled, tensing suddenly, white spurts of creamy come painting Graves’ chest and belly and dripping down her wrist. She cried out, frantic and blissful, as his cock continued to assault her prostate, milking several final dribbling gushes of semen out of the flushed tip, coating her hand. Soon, Graves’ rhythm wavered as well. The sound he made was more animal than human, a deep groan of satiation as he shoved in deep, body as taut as a bowstring, hips shuddering as he orgasmed inside her.

Credence realized that pre-come was oozing out of his dick, dripping down the side of the shaft and onto his balls in a sticky stream of clear fluid as he sat there frozen, mouth open, mind overloaded. He watched them come down from their climax, panting hard, Artemis’ cheeks a delicate pink as she bent to kiss Graves, his large hands massaging down her spine as she made sweet happy little noises into his mouth. The man murmured something that ended with “… fucking incredible,” and she grinned, slow and satisfied, and turned to Credence.

“Darling,” she breathed, eyes widening a little at the sight of him there motionless and blinking, feeling a little lost, erection throbbing against his belly. “Oh, look at you. Sweetheart, come here.” Immediately, he crawled right into her arms, kissing those pink lips and shivering as her nails dragged lightly over his back. “Baby,” she whispered against his mouth, his hands clutching her waist. “What did you think of that? You liked watching?” Nodding eagerly, he pressed another kiss against her lips, feeling too dizzy with arousal to form coherent words. She smiled, squirming a little, and he realized that Graves’ cock was still inside her, warm and intimate. He wanted that, desperately, and she seemed to be able to guess his thoughts with perfect accuracy. “You want to try, pet?”

This time his nod was accompanied by a frantic little whimper. Anything. Yes, whatever she meant by that, he wanted it. He wanted to try penetrating and he wanted to try being penetrated. He trusted her to decide where to start.

“Alright, darling,” she replied, pleased. “Let’s get re-situated then.” Dazedly, he watched as she gripped the base of Graves’ cock and let it slide out of her ass, carefully easing the full condom off and disposing of it in the trash bin, then using the last of her little pack of wet wipes to scoop the drying come off of the man’s chest and abdomen. 

Unsure what he ought to be doing, Credence bent to kiss Graves, who was looking blissed out and exhausted, gazing up at the two of them with soft affection. The man kissed him back gently, his lips warm, before murmuring, “How you doing there, angel?”

“Good,” Credence managed to whisper, nuzzling their noses together. Graves’ sweet concern for his wellbeing was a familiar anchor in this whole whirl of pleasurable chaos, grounding him firmly. “That was really hot.”

The man chuckled lowly, Credence’s hair dragging in a silky curtain along his chest as they kissed again. “You can say that again,” he muttered. “And I suspect what’s about to happen will be too.”

The bed dipped slightly, and Artemis settled with a sigh onto her back next to Graves, the box of condoms on the mattress by her side. Red hair spread across the pillow as she smiled up at Credence, green eyes glowing. Wordlessly, she reached for him, pulling him down to kiss her, those long smooth legs fitting themselves perfectly around his lean hips as she maneuvered him on top of her body. Her skin was warm and slightly damp with sweat, and he eagerly sank into her embrace, the wild desperation from a moment ago smoothing out into a low banked fire of rich desire. Oh, he wanted her, but he wanted to do this right.

After several minutes of kissing, there was a crinkle of foil as Graves unwrapped a condom, Credence rising wide-eyed back up onto his knees so that the man could help him put it on. Credence’s hands shook slightly as he liberally spread lubricant over his gloved prick, staring in surreal astonishment as Artemis casually lifted her legs and rested her calves comfortably on his shoulders. “Mmm,” she sighed, relaxing into the stretch as Credence pressed a kiss to her knee and then slowly folded down to kiss her lips again. “Darling,” she breathed. Her hands found his ass, encouraging his hips forward to rock against her pelvis. “Whenever you feel ready, sweetheart. I’m in no rush.”

Well, neither was Credence. In fact, he wanted this moment to last forever, although he knew he was far too aroused for that to be the case. So he kissed her again, slow and unhurried, his balls dragging against her ass and his cock sliding dizzily close to its target while he explored her mouth again with his tongue, relishing the feel of her under him, slender and lithe, her hands luxuriously rubbing over his back.

“Artemis,” he whispered, raw and soft, kissing the delicate bone of her cheek. “I…” He felt he needed to tell her, though he was pretty sure she already knew. “I’ve never done this before. Please… Tell me if I should be doing things differently,” he said, voice quiet and small. “I want to make sure it feels good for you.”

She beamed up at him, caressing his cheek with her hand. “My sweet boy. You really are an angel, aren’t you?” Their lips brushed together again as she arched her back, adjusting her position minutely. “I will let you know if anything is uncomfortable, although I doubt it will be, especially since I have such a considerate partner. And you do the same, okay?”

Breathless, he nodded, and then he could resist no longer. Her groin was radiating heat, sated and soft and velvety against his stomach as he reached down and lined himself up, lips pressed against her cheek. Cuddled this close, he felt the motion of her ribs as she gasped when his cock head nudged her stretched hole, and then for a while he couldn’t focus on anything but the incredible sensation of sliding inside. 

“Ohhh….” He moaned brokenly, feeling undone. She was so warm, and the slick glide of her rim over the head of his prick felt unbelievably good, tight and brain-meltingly hot.

He was _inside_. There was a moment of hyper-reality brought on by this realization in which every sound seemed magnified, his heartbeat thundering in his ears and the rustle of her hair on the pillow a waterfall of noise. Oh, God, he was inside her, right where Graves had just been. He bit his lip, pressing in further and caressing her ribs, marveling at the intimate feeling of sliding in and in and in until his pelvis pressed right up against her ass and his cock was engulfed in pressure and heat and fluttering muscle. All the way in.

“Oh my God,” he choked out, not caring about the heresy of it. This truly was a religious experience, a brush with the divine. Artemis was a goddess, and he was fully overcome by the magnificence and power she had over him. He had never felt this way before, not in church, not in bed, not ever. His world had flipped upside down and she was _everything_. His eyes felt a little bit hot, breath shaking in his lungs.

Graves was lying next to them, watching quietly, his eyes dark and fond, and Credence drew some amount of strength from his calm smile and the light brush of his fingertips against Credence’s hand. At some point he hesitantly began thrusting, and then it felt so incredibly good that he couldn’t stop. Artemis’ legs slipped off his shoulders and came to wrap themselves around his waist instead, folding up effortlessly and locking him in tightly against her. “Credence,” she sighed, pink lips softly parted, “Oh, darling, that feels so good.” He lost himself in her, pressing his hips in deep with each slow dragging thrust as he pressed his mouth again and again to the addictive warmth of her neck, her cheek, her lips. He was propped up on his elbows, her hand tangled in his hair as he moved fluidly on top of her, time passing as slowly as molasses, until the inevitable creep of his orgasm began to loom large.

Gasping, he pressed in deeper, feeling the burn in his shoulder muscles as he looked hungrily down at her face, delicate and smiling and flushed. “Are you close, sweetheart?” she murmured, green eyes heavy-lidded and beautiful.

“Y-Yes,” he breathed, feeling the crashing wave approaching but not willing to let it hit him quite yet. He had his fingers twined with Graves’ under the pillow, the man’s other hand rubbing his back, warm lips against his shoulder. “I… I just… I feel as if I never want to move,” he confessed. “I don’t want this to end. I never want to leave this bed, or be parted from either of you, I…” There were other words, three words, sappy but honest, threatening to spill over his tongue. But perhaps they were better saved for later.

“Baby,” Graves murmured, nuzzling his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” whispered Artemis. “Me too.” Her legs were tight and secure around his waist. “But the good news is, we’re not going anywhere afterward. It’s alright. You can let go.” 

She ran her fingers through his hair as he started thrusting again, unavoidable pressure and deep clenching heat building in his groin. The orgasm finally hit him, spreading like molten lava through his entire body and wringing him out like a wet cloth, the gush of release hot and blindingly intense. He shuddered on top of her, muscles clenching, his hoarse cries partially muffled into her neck while he squeezed Graves’ hand tightly and melted into raw pleasure, feral and complete.

It took several long minutes of gasping, his hips still twitching slightly, for Credence to come back to reality. 

Graves’ warm palm was still caressing his back, and he dazedly noticed that Artemis was half-hard against his stomach, her heartbeat even and steady were they lay skin to skin. “Oh,” he breathed in dismay, “I should’ve waited for you.”

But her eyes were sleepy and her smile content as she brushed his hair out of his face. “No, that’s fine, darling. It’s impressive that you managed to get me partway up again so soon, especially considering how sleepy I am. It’s been a long week. I think I’ll leave it there, though, I’m too comfy to want to try and do any more tonight.” She turned her head away and yawned, nose crinkling adorably. “We’ll have lots of chances to come back to this, I know it.”

Her yawn was contagious; Credence’s jaw popped as he followed her example and then tiredly gripped the base of the condom and pulled out of her. He did his best not to spill anything on the bed as he slid the condom off and tied it in a much clumsier knot than Artemis had managed. He didn’t trust himself to aim well enough to throw it into the trash can, so he heaved himself up off the bed with a groan and padded over to throw it away, his entire body feeling pleasantly worn out.

“Mmm,” chuckled Graves behind him, “now that’s a lovely sight.”

Credence turned to find that both of them were grinning and ogling his ass, looking appreciative and endearingly drowsy at the same time. Giggling, he made his way back over to the bed in time to help Artemis struggle to her feet with a groan. “Bugger,” she said. “I’ve still got to wash this make-up off and put my wig away so it won’t be a snarl next time. Darlings, I will be right back.” Oh. And Credence should probably go get his overnight bag from downstairs in the coatroom so that he could brush his teeth. 

Artemis went over to the closet and rummaged in her own bag to pull on a pair of boxers and a soft tank top with a dolphin on it, along with some worn sweatpants with “Hufflepuff” written in block letters down one leg. Credence wasn’t sure what that meant, but she looked adorable in the outfit, cozy and soft, and he had to suppress the urge to run over there and cling to her. “Actually, Credence, sweetheart, did you bring make-up remover? I’ve got some, if you wanted to come use it.”

“Okay,” he breathed, scrambling to find his discarded underwear and yank them back on. There was nothing for it but to don his costume once more, at least for now, but he didn’t bother with shoes or socks as he padded after her toward the door, re-dressed in his tunic and tights. 

Graves waved a lazy hand at them as they left, pulling up the duvet and easing back against the pillows with a sigh.

Credence felt bad that the man had had such an awful day, and now he didn’t even get to have any of the comforts of his nighttime routine here. No doubt he hadn’t thought to pack his electric toothbrush or any of his fancy creams, with all that had happened. He didn’t even know what state the man’s house was in right now, or whether Muriel was okay. Credence frowned, resolving to ask Graves if he needed any help tomorrow sorting things out. He didn’t know anything about replacing windows or calming down frightened cats, but he could be moral support and make food at least.

The hallway was empty, the house mostly quiet, though faint voices seemed to be coming from behind one of the other closed doors at the other end of the floor. Blushing at the thought that anybody might’ve heard them, Credence followed Artemis into the bathroom and watched her rifle through her bag once more, this time pulling out a soft hairbrush and a little bottle of make-up remover, which she handed to Credence.

“Go ahead and use the sink as long as you want, darling, I’m going to be a while untangling here.”

Indeed, by the time Credence had wiped the last of his eyeliner and mascara away and freshly scrubbed his face, she was still gently brushing through her long red hair, smoothing the parts that had become slightly mussed during the evening. Her fingers were careful and delicate, barely tugging on the strands. Credence left her to continue and slipped back into the hallway, feeling somewhat mischievous as he crept quietly down the stairs to the main floor. There were no guests in sight in the living room, although he could hear the murmur of a conversation still going in the kitchen and some distant sleepy laughter that sounded like it may have come from the ballroom. The coatroom was mostly empty of jackets, and Credence quickly located his bag, stowed beneath the fleecy cloak from his costume and Tina’s leather jacket.

Hang on.

Her jacket was still there? Well. He wasn’t going to dwell too closely on the more intimate particulars of what that might mean, but he grinned brightly at the thought that she might’ve finally found someone she really was connecting with, if she was spending the night with Sera. That was wonderful, even if tomorrow morning had the potential to be a little bit awkward.

Still smiling, he snuck back out into the living room and darted up the stairs, slipping back into their bedroom to find that Graves appeared to have fallen asleep, his breathing deep and slow where he lay amongst the fluffy pillows. Credence quickly pulled off his costume again and hung it up in the closet, instead changing into a pair of soft cotton pajama pants and another of Tina’s old threadbare school tee shirts that said ‘Thunderbird’ on it with a stylized graphic of a large mythical beast. He had thought maybe Artemis would like that.

Pulling his toothbrush out of his bag, he turned back to the bed and saw that Graves had sleepily opened his eyes, blinking adorably and propping himself up on one elbow.

“Hey,” Credence said softly, wandering over to kiss him. “I’m just going to go brush my teeth. If you don’t mind sharing, you’re welcome to borrow my toothbrush too,” he murmured. “You probably didn’t get the chance to pack yours, huh?”

Graves shook his head, sighing. “Baby, I might take you up on that, if you really don’t mind. It certainly doesn’t bother me to share, considering how many times I’ve just had my tongue in your mouth.” He heaved himself out of bed with a groan, pulling his shirt and jeans back on.

After a brief exchange of whispers through the bathroom door, the two of them slipped inside to join Artemis, who was starting to look more like Newt again, though Credence didn’t want to assume anything without asking. Her wig was packed away, make-up washed off, although that familiar beautiful smile was the same no matter what. By happy coincidence, she had found several extra toothbrushes in the cabinet, so the three of them clustered around the sink in a minty sleepy haze and cleaned their teeth, the process all the more soothing for the easy silence between them, the comfortable intimacy of the ritual.

Artemis went back across the hall then, Graves slipping after her and then disappearing down the stairs. Credence finished up in the bathroom and crossed to the bedroom, finding Artemis already curled in the bed, her sweatpants and tanktop neatly folded on the nightstand and her green eyes heavy-lidded.

“Darling,” she murmured, snuggling deeper under the covers and holding out a hand to Credence, who eagerly shucked his layers and added them to the tidy pile, crawling into bed in just his underwear and wrapping himself in Artemis’ arms. She smelled wonderful, giggling softly as Credence buried his nose in the ticklish skin of her pale neck.

“Mmm, you always smell so good,” Credence whispered. 

“And you’re adorable,” she murmured, stroking his hair.

“Um. Artemis?” he breathed, pressed close, his eyes on her drowsy face. “What should I, um… how should think about you right now? As a she or a he?” He desperately wanted to get this right. “Or… or both?”

“Oh.” Her smile glowed as she ran her fingertips over his bare shoulder. “That’s a good question, darling. I think maybe I’m leaning back toward he again now. It doesn’t always happen this way, but something about being sleepy tends to settle me into Newt again.”

He stroked a gentle thumb along Credence’s jaw. “I started feeling the need to be Artemis a long time ago, but it’s only been in these last couple years that I’ve stopped second-guessing myself. It just felt so right, the first time I let myself be her for a little while. I needed a break from being a he, almost like I was restoring some internal balance.” He smiled, shy and sweet. “I can’t speak to how this sort of thing works for anyone else.” He was blushing slightly, nuzzling their noses together. “But it seems like most of the time I am Newt. A man. And… sometimes a man wearing a dress,” he whispered, and Credence couldn’t resist kissing him, running his fingers through Newt’s short copper curls.

“I like you in dresses,” he admitted softly. “As a man or a woman. You’re so gorgeous in anything you wear.”

Endearingly, this made Newt stammer, his expression genuinely flustered. “Oh, well… I’m… Thank you, love. You as well, you know. I think you caught the eye of plenty of people here tonight with your lovely outfit and your incredible figure.” He was blushing harder now. “I, er… You probably get lots of compliments on your features, but you… I, well, I can’t get enough of those long legs of yours, goodness, your calf muscles, darling! And your arse is a work of art. Not to mention I could lose myself in those beautiful doe eyes.” He bit his lip, stroking Credence’s arm. “I could go on for an embarrassingly long time about every single part of you, from your arms to your ankles to your eyebrows, but perhaps I should stop nattering on and just say you’re gorgeous. I like your everything, inside and out.”

“Oh,” Credence squeaked, feeling completely floored. He honestly wasn’t used to thinking of himself as desirable to other people yet, but hearing that he was appealing to Newt was rather desperately satisfying. That was far more important than pleasing some crowd of strangers at a party. He didn’t really care what anybody else thought, as long as Newt and Graves liked the way he looked. And as long as he was being himself. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I like your everything too.”

Feeling like he was stuffed full of sugary marshmallows or something equally sweet and light, Credence peppered Newt’s laughing face with kisses until Graves came back, raising an eyebrow at their antics.

“Darling,” Newt giggled, “Coming to bed?”

Graves smiled softly and locked the door, shucking his shirt and jeans and climbing back under the covers on Credence’s side. “I saw your cousin in the kitchen just now,” he said quietly, and Credence rolled over to look at him, grinning mischievously. 

“Oh, really?” he said slyly.

“Yes, funny enough she turned bright red when she saw me. I went to get a glass of water, and she was down there in a pair of Sera’s pajamas.”

Credence giggled helplessly, covering his mouth with his hand. “Oh, I shouldn’t be laughing at her,” he said, voice muffled by his fingers. “But I am just so happy for them. She was probably mortified to be caught, though. She’s a very private person, even more so than me.”

Graves’ eyes were warm and affectionate as he snuggled closer, wrapping an arm around Credence’s waist and pressing a sleepy kiss to his shoulder, broad palm sliding over Newt’s smooth back. “Mmm. In that case, I will refrain from teasing Sera about it in the morning, at least while Tina is listening.”

Beaming, Credence kissed the man’s cheek, stroking his hair out of his face. “I appreciate your restraint,” he murmured, and Graves smiled against his skin. “Such a noble sacrifice.”

There was a click as Newt reached over and turned out the light, and then the three of them tangled themselves a bit tighter, wriggling until everyone was comfortable. Credence grinned in the dark, Newt’s head on his shoulder and Graves’ arm across them both, the quiet chorus of their breathing coaxing his eyes to drift shut.

Just like when he had stayed the night with Graves, the sounds of the house dragged against his consciousness, unfamiliar and new, the slight rattle of the window and the hum of the heating vent. But in the midst of it all he felt completely safe, pressed in between his two lovers, in the only place he wanted to be.

The smell of Newt’s hair and the warmth of Graves’ even breaths.

Heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An entire smut chapter. yusss.
> 
> I like the idea that Newt is really comfortable in his own skin, totally cool with nudity and sex. Cause, like, he's into animals and science and it's all natural, right? Bodies and nakedness don't faze him at all. But then he'll blush bright red about being complimented on what he's wearing, or get all shy about expressing his feelings. It's a contradiction that I find extremely adorable.
> 
> More adorableness to come in the final chapter, followed by an epilogue that I am still adding to (because I don't know when to stop. No really, I don't. I can't stop). But for now, good night!


	20. Lord of the Dance

There was something soft tickling Credence’s nose.

Huh. He was fairly sure that it was Sunday morning, which meant that any moment now Queenie would be coming through the living room to start making breakfast, usually humming as she went. Only, something felt different. 

Credence was still floating gently in the fog of sleep, his mind slow to register the fact that there was more body heat under the blankets than he would normally produce on his own, and a weight across his hip that wasn’t usually there. Right. And something brushing against his nose, nice-smelling and ticklish.

Blearily, he opened his eyes. There was warm sunlight painting the curtains of the window opposite the bed with gold and white, the strong glow of a clear, crisp autumn morning. Credence was curled on one side, a tousled mop of reddish curls in front of him on the pillow and the quiet sound of deep breathing coming from behind him, a muscular arm loosely draped over his waist. All at once, he smiled hugely, unable to stop the outpouring of sunny happiness squeezing its way out of his chest. 

He smiled until his face hurt, and then he smiled some more.

Newt was flopped on his stomach, face adorably half-buried in the pillow next to Credence’s shoulder, his pale eyelashes casting long feathery shadows over the delicate freckles on his cheeks and his pink lips in a soft, slack pout. One relaxed hand was curled loosely around Credence’s wrist, as if he had been clutching it in his sleep.

When Credence carefully rolled over, Graves’ possessive arm flopped heavy across his belly and he was faced with the equally endearing sight of the man on his other side, dark hair mussed, stubble shading his handsome jaw, curled in the same position Credence had been like spoons in a drawer.

Could you get a muscle cramp in your cheek from smiling too much? If so, he might need Newt to massage it later. Or kiss it better.

Grinning to himself, he stared up at the ceiling for a long time, feeling the rise and fall of Graves’ ribs against his arm, Newt’s muffled breathing soft against the pillow. The rest of the house was quiet, everyone still asleep. Credence fidgeted slightly, full to the brim with joyous energy but not wanting to disturb the peace of the bed. Time slipped by, Newt snuffling adorably before rolling on his back, but still he didn’t wake up. And unfortunately Credence had to pee.

Very carefully, he slid himself out from under Graves’ arm and performed the delicate feat of extracting himself from the bed, slithering out of the covers and then painstakingly clambering over the duvet down to the foot without pressing on anybody’s limbs underneath.

Once mobile again, Credence pulled his sweatpants back on and snuck out the door, tee shirt in hand, to drift across the hallway into the bathroom. Sighing in relief, he stared at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. He was still smiling. Perhaps he would just never stop. He did his best to run his fingers through his rumpled hair, still nearly pin-straight from Queenie’s styling last night, grateful for the loan of Newt’s makeup remover which meant he’d somehow done a pretty good job cleaning his face. Now that he wasn’t half asleep, he could see a bit of eyeliner that he had missed, but other than that he looked no different from any other Sunday morning. Except for the fact that he was smiling so wide that there were creases in his face he’d never seen before.

And the bruise blooming under his eye, but he’d rather not dwell on that. Not even that particular memory could dampen his happiness today.

Massaging his cheeks curiously, Credence wandered out of the bathroom and pondered what to do now. A poke of his head back into the bedroom revealed that Graves and Newt were both still sleeping hard, Newt snoring softly now that he was on his back, an adorable wheezing sound that made Credence stifle a giggle. He sounded a little bit like Pickett. Torn between the desire to climb back into the bed with them and his restless, eager itch to be awake and active, he dithered in the doorway. Hmmm. Surely they would enjoy it if he made them some breakfast! And while he was at it he could make enough for Tori, Sera, and Tina too, and whoever else had spent the night. Grinning, he padded over to his bag, fishing out a pair of cozy socks to ward off the chill of the morning before he slipped back out to shave and brush his teeth in the bathroom, then crept downstairs, keeping an eye out for any sign of life.

Nobody else seemed to be stirring. There was a tousled head of hair on the couch that Credence didn’t recognize, buried under several blankets, and a mess of glasses and plates in the kitchen just begging to be washed. The clock on the microwave said 8:35 am, a luxurious lie-in by Credence’s standards, but perhaps still too early for everyone else. He peeked into the family room, noting for the first time that the floor was beautifully patterned with abstract tiles that swirled around the fireplace, which was cold and empty. At the other end of the room, the sun lit up the conservatory with beautiful shades of glowing green, rays of warmth bouncing off the rich vegetation. Drawn irresistibly into their midst, he spent a moment among the plants, breathing in the humid smell of soil and leaves, glimpsing the pool outside of the closed glass doors. Someone had pulled a cover over it at some point last night, and there was an abandoned pair of spiky heels next to one of the lawn chairs. The hedges shone in the sunlight, the sweet autumn clematis flowering along the trellis, tiny white flowers sprinkled like snowflakes over the dark green leaves.

Credence sighed happily, and wandered back into the kitchen to quietly begin the dishes.

He had loaded everything into the dishwasher that would fit and was just trying to figure out which buttons to press to get it going when there was a faint yawn from the living room and a rustling of blankets. A rumpled head appeared over the back of the couch, and he recognized Fontaine untangling herself from her make-shift bed, blinking sleepily as she stretched and then attempted to smooth the wrinkles out of her vampire costume, which she appeared to have slept in.

Not wanting to startle her, Credence went back to his task, making sure to produce a couple soft clinking noises as he stacked the remaining dishes next to the sink. He’d gotten the dishwasher going now, locating the powdered detergent conveniently stowed next to a bottle of dish soap for hand-washing, and he filled the sink with hot sudsy water and set to scrubbing the rest of the plates off and setting them in a neat row in the drying rack.

“Um, hey, good morning,” came a hesitant voice from the direction of the living room. “Wow, look at you, it’s already looking so much cleaner in here! I bet you don’t have to do that, though, Madam Picquery doesn’t expect her guests to earn their keep through chores,” Fontaine said in amusement.

“I know,” he smiled at her over his shoulder. “But I don’t mind. I have some time to kill while I wait for the sleepy-heads to get up.” He had moved on to the piles of drink glasses now, and he was pleasantly surprised to turn back around from stacking them up to find that Fontaine had grabbed a towel and was helping dry off the plates.

She was eyeing him speculatively as she put the dried dishes away in a cabinet, glancing at the glowing smile he seemed unable to keep from spreading across his face. “I’m guessing you had a good night then, despite its rocky start?” Her gaze lingered on the bruise blooming red and faintly purple over his cheek. “Not that it is any of my business, but I would be really glad to hear that things worked out for you, especially after what happened. You and Graves, huh? And the chick with the red hair?”

Credence blushed, his smile turning bashful. “Yeah,” he murmured, feeling too shy to elaborate.

“Alright, cutie, I won’t pry any further,” she said, grinning. “I’m just glad there was a happy ending for you. I’m Jessica, by the way. Or Fontaine, if you’re like Graves and you prefer to stick with last names.”

Credence’s hands were elbow-deep in soapy water, so he settled for nodding at her. “I’m Credence,” he replied, and she looked delighted, her grin lighting up her face.

“It’s nice to meet you, Credence.” Fontaine turned back to dry another plate, her voice carefully casual as she went on. “So, um… How did you and Graves meet?”

He suppressed a giggle at how shocked she would look if he told her the truth. The side of Graves that his employees saw was hard to reconcile with the peaceful man in his yoga class. “Are you asking because you’ve already made a bet, or are you hoping to stack the odds in your favor?” he countered instead, grinning mischievously, and she threw her head back and laughed in surprise.

“Oh, you’re sharp! I can definitely see why he likes you,” she said joyfully. “Alright, I guess it will just have to remain a mystery. Unless you can narrow it down for me? Like, a category of place? There’s sure to be a betting pool in the office on Monday, and I don’t want to give Lopez the satisfaction of winning the pot a second time in a row.”

Credence bit his lip, giving her a considering look as he stacked the newly clean glasses in the drying rack for her to towel off. “I met him somewhere nobody was wearing any shoes,” he said enigmatically, “Also, I think you might’ve left yours out by the pool, those spiky heels?”

She gaped at him for a second, then laughed again, a hearty chuckle. “What an intriguingly cryptic answer. No shoes, huh? I can’t really picture Graves in anything other than his full suit, even that casual outfit last night was a huge break from the norm. Okay, Credence, I look forward to the mystery unfolding at whatever pace you guys want. And thanks for the tip about my shoes, I would’ve had to go looking for them.”

They finished cleaning up the drinking glasses in companionable silence, stacking them in the cupboard, after which Credence brought over the serving dishes to scrub them clean. Somebody last night had packed away the leftover food, so all that was left were the empty platters, spoons, and trays that had held the magnificent spread.

“God, that food was good,” Fontaine remarked. “It’s half the reason Madam Picquery’s parties are always so incredible. She certainly doesn’t skimp on the snacks. Did you have any of those mini-quiches? Frickin’ delicious. Not to mention the cute little animal pastries. I don’t know if you got to try one, they got eaten up pretty fast, but they were really tasty. These chocolate dragons with some sort of chili powder or something, I don’t know what made them spicy but it was a nice combo.”

Credence’s grin widened as he looked down at his hands, scrubbing a tray patterned with flowers under the hot water. It was cayenne pepper, actually, and some cinnamon and paprika. “Mmm,” he said politely.

“Ooh,” she exclaimed, “I wonder if there are any leftovers in the fridge.”

As Credence worked his way through the rest of the serving implements, she poked her head in the refrigerator eagerly, making a triumphant noise when she found a small stack of containers, one of which seemed to hold the last three mini-quiches.

“Am I a terrible guest if I eat these?” she whispered, already pulling the lid off the Tupperware.

Credence laughed, stacking the trays in the drying rack and wringing out the sponge to begin wiping down the counters. “I think you’ll be forgiven, considering you helped clean up,” he said serenely, and she nodded excitedly.

“Right? Okay, that’s what I was thinking. You want one?” 

But Credence had other plans for his breakfast. “Nah, you go ahead,” he replied, shaking his head.

“Alright, if you’re sure…” she sang, before happily scooping her purloined meal out of its container and skipping off into the ballroom, presumably headed to go get her shoes. While her footsteps faded toward the garden, Credence dried and put away the serving dishes, making his best guess at where they belonged in the cupboard, scrubbed the counters and wiped down the table, and washed the quiche container. Now, with the water draining out of the sink, he wiped his hands on the towel and bit his lip, wondering if Sera had any flour in her pantry.

Pancakes seemed like a good bet to please a crowd, but he was debating a batch of muffins as well. Or maybe scones. And fluffy scrambled eggs. Hmm. As long as he wasn’t putting too much strain on her food supplies, or stripping the cupboard bare, he hoped it was alright that he was using her ingredients. Luckily, the pantry was exceedingly well-stocked, and appeared to have everything he needed for some apple cinnamon pancakes, Tina’s favorite, and some lemon and ginger muffins that he might be able to add a bit of a spicy kick to for Sera. He didn’t know what Graves or Newt would want for breakfast, but he hoped that if he made some potato and egg scramble there would be plenty to choose from to please everyone.

Grinning, he decided to start with the muffins. The batter came together with the ease of practice, adapted from a recipe he and Queenie had tried out a couple times on idle Sunday mornings in the past. He grated some fresh ginger, adding a pinch more of the spices than he normally would, and soon the kitchen was fragrant with the scent of cinnamon, lemon zest, and cloves. The nice thing about muffins was how quick they were, and how easy it was to change the accenting flavors within the basic format of the recipe. By the time Fontaine tottered back in her heels, brushing crumbs off her gothic lace dress, he had two trays baking in the oven and had moved on to scrubbing the potatoes in the sink.

“Whoa,” she said, genuinely floored. “Are you making _breakfast_?” It sounded almost as if this was inconceivable to her. “It really must’ve been a good night, then. And, holy shit, you know how to bake? Hot damn, that is so not fair.” She continued to mutter quietly about injustice and boyfriends too perfect to be real as she wandered over to slump down at one of the stools by the counter. “Can I help at all? You seem to really know what you’re doing, I don’t wanna get in the way.”

Credence grinned at her and plonked a cutting board down with a knife and two bell peppers. “Dice ‘em up small, get rid of the stem, the white membrane, and the seeds. If you could put them in a bowl when you’re done that would be great. And don’t cut your fingers.”

She snorted, but immediately got to work. “Yes, chef.”

He beamed. The timer dinged for the muffins just as he was finishing up chopping the potatoes, the kitchen suffused with the smell of lemon and rich ginger. He laid the trays out to cool on the empty serving table, pulling an onion out of the pantry and resigning himself to watery eyes for a few minutes as he carefully diced it up with Sera’s incredibly sharp kitchen knife. Ooh, that cut nicely. He definitely ought to confirm that they would indeed like a set of knives for the apartment. Actually, all of this was nice; the kitchen was far more spacious than the one at home, with tons of counter space and more gleaming equipment and drawers full of gadgets than he even knew how to use. He’d never even seen a… whatever that was before. Maybe some sort of specialized spiral vegetable peeler?

Sniffling slightly from the onion, he dug through the cabinet for Sera’s largest skillet, and when he straightened up Newt had appeared out of thin air, hovering in the doorway and looking adorably sleepy but intrigued. His expression turned to worry as he took in Credence’s watery red eyes.

“Darling? What’s the matter?” he asked, and Credence couldn’t help but run over, laughing, to hug him, scooping him up by the waist and spinning him around as he let out a surprised squeak of delight.

“Nothing, it was an onion,” Credence said in fond amusement. “But I appreciate your concern, gorgeous.” He kissed Newt’s blushing cheek and set him down, showing him the ingredients laid out on the counter. “I thought I’d make some breakfast, you know, just in case people want some. I didn’t have a chance to ask Sera, but I am hoping she’s okay with this,” he said sheepishly. “I kind of just used her ingredients without permission.”

Fontaine was staring at them openly, knife frozen above the mostly-diced bell pepper. “I don’t think she’s gonna mind,” she said faintly, and Credence beamed, heating up the skillet with some oil and adding in the onions to soften.

“Newt, I made muffins, do you want one?” he chirped proudly, looking over his shoulder at where the man was watching him with a soft grin. “Careful, the pan is hot.”

“Absolutely. Smells fantastic, love.” Newt wandered over to the table and carefully plucked one out of the steaming batch, moaning appreciatively at the first bite.

“Hey, how come he gets to eat instead of helping?” complained Fontaine playfully. “Can I have a muffin?”

Credence laughed, adding some salt and cayenne pepper to the pan and stirring in the potatoes, turning the heat down. “You’re the one who asked for something to do,” he replied. “When you finish that pepper, one of the muffins is all yours.” His heart felt light as a cloud as Newt drifted back over, muffin already consumed. “Besides, he is helping,” Credence murmured, reeling Newt in with an arm around his waist. “He’s my taster. Did you like it, baby?” he asked softly, sneaking his fingertips under the back of Newt’s tank top to graze over his skin.

“Mm hm,” giggled Newt, sliding his fingers luxuriously over the back of Credence’s neck and nuzzling his cheek. “I love lemon, and the ginger is spicy and refreshing.” Beaming, Credence snuck a kiss, not caring if Fontaine saw, too blissfully happy to worry about anything. The pan only needed stirring every few minutes, so he got a little carried away chasing the taste of the muffin in Newt’s sweet warm mouth, losing himself in the silky slide of his tongue and the perfect feeling of his lean arms stretched comfortably over Credence’s shoulders.

When they finally pulled apart, Fontaine looked like she was trying to hide a smile, a muffin in her hand and her eyes on the completed bowl of diced pepper. “Ah, perfect,” Credence said, handing the wooden spatula to Newt. “Would you mind?” he murmured. “Just a stir or two every few minutes to make sure it isn’t sticking to the pan.”

Newt nodded, grinning, and Credence kissed him one more time, helpless to resist that beautiful smile. He set the bowl of peppers by the stove ready to be used when the potatoes were almost done, deciding to make the pancake batter next. “Uhm, Jessica?” he asked uncertainly as he scrubbed the muffin batter bowl with plenty of soap. She looked up, cheeks full. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to catch you mid-bite. I was just wondering if you knew how many people spent the night. I’m trying to decide how big a batch of pancakes to make.”

He gave her a moment to finish chewing, rinsing the cleaned bowl and drying it off with the towel slung over his shoulder. It was a habit he’d had since long before he lived with the Goldsteins; wash your dishes immediately, never leave a mess. 

“I’m not completely sure,” Jessica said, swallowing her mouthful of muffin. “I didn’t plan to stay, I just realized there at the end that it wasn’t safe for me to drive myself home. Didn’t want to barge in on anybody in one of the bedrooms, and that couch was calling my name. It’s real soft and comfortable.” She hummed appreciatively and raised the muffin in her hand. “God, these are good. Sorry I can’t be more specific, most everyone had already disappeared by the time I wandered in and fell asleep.”

“That’s okay,” Credence said, pulling the pancake ingredients out of the fridge and looking around for a whisk. “I’ll just start with triple what I make at home, and we’ll go from there. Tina loves these, she always wants me to make them when it’s my turn to do breakfast,” he added happily, trading a private smile with Newt. “I’m guessing that the smell will lure her down here at some point.” As he walked by the stove to pull the cinnamon back down from the spice rack, he pressed a kiss to the man’s bare shoulder. “And everyone else. Was Graves still sleeping when you got up?”

Newt nodded, soft affection in his lovely green eyes. “Out like a light,” he murmured. His smile looked a little bit worried, though, and Credence knew how he felt. Was is possible that whatever Gellert had dosed him with was still in his system? He didn’t know anything about how sleeping drugs worked, but if Graves wasn’t up in the next hour maybe they ought to go wake him just in case.

True to his prediction, not long after the first set of cinnamon pancakes were sizzling in the hot pan with the applesauce thickening on the back burner there were faint voices upstairs and then the thump of footsteps. Tina appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, glowing, smiling so wide that the dimple in her cheek made an appearance, heightening her resemblance to Queenie. Sera was a few steps behind her, her pajamas covered by a regal dressing gown of dark red silk that made her skin glow. 

“Oh, Bambi, you’re making my favorite!” Tina exclaimed, coming up behind him to give him a squeeze and peer into the pan. “Mmm, that smells so good. And those hash browns do too, Newt. Ooh, and you made muffins already? Gosh, when did you wake up?”

Credence giggled. “Around eight, not that long ago. Muffins are quick.” He met Sera’s indulgent smile over Tina’s shoulder. “I… hope you don’t mind, I just kind of helped myself to what was in your pantry…”

She cut off his words with a raised hand and a slightly incredulous grin. “Credence, honey, you can make yourself at home in my kitchen any time you like. I think you know already how much I love your cooking,” she said delightedly. “Use whatever you want, and don’t feel you have to clean up after. We can do that, since you made such a wonderful breakfast.” She had spotted the muffins on the back table and wandered over to try one, making an appreciative noise as she bit into the soft steaming middle. “Mmm, ginger.”

“I thought you might like those,” Credence said triumphantly, flipping two more completed pancakes onto the pile he had waiting on a plate. “The applesauce probably needs a few more minutes, Teens, could you put these in the oven on low just to keep warm?”

“Uh huh,” she said mischievously, and when he turned to look over his shoulder nearly all of the pancakes had made it into the oven and the last one was most of the way into her mouth.

He giggled, batter sizzling, checking the time to see if he ought to add the eggs to the skillet of potatoes yet. Sera had leaned herself against the kitchen island next to Jessica to eat her muffin, and now he heard a quiet murmur of, “Good morning, Fontaine.”

“Morning, Boss,” the woman breathed in response. “This is unreal. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I had a breakfast cooked from scratch. Um. If you don’t mind me sticking around, of course. I ended up crashing on the couch since I was a little too sleepy and impaired to drive last night.”

“No problem,” Sera said smoothly. “I am glad to know you were being responsible. It looks like there’ll be plenty for everyone.” There was a whirring noise, and when he looked over his shoulder he could see that she had started the coffee maker and was now pulling oranges from a fruit bowl along with one of those gleamingly sharp knives. He really did need to get some nicer ones at home, these ones cut food like a dream.

Tina, intuitive as ever, had started whisking the eggs on the counter next to Newt, peeking into the skillet to see how brown the potatoes were getting. “Bambi, I’m guessing you were gonna put these peppers in too?” Oh, right, he had almost forgotten those.

She worked easily in tandem with Newt to add the eggs and peppers to the pan while Credence used up the last of the pancake batter and stirred the applesauce. The kitchen was fragrant with a wealth of appetizing aromas by the time Tori appeared in the doorway, wiping the sleep from her eyes and marching blearily toward the coffee maker. It seemed to take her a few moments to register her surroundings, her face lighting up when she saw the fluffy trays of muffins, the pancakes warming in the oven, the applesauce, scrambled eggs and peppers with hashbrowns finished and steaming on the stove. In the last few minutes, Credence had impulsively used the still-hot pan to put together some mushroom and spinach quesadillas with Tina’s help, grating in some spicy jalapeno jack cheese. He flipped the last of them onto a tray next to a sizable platter of Sera’s neatly sliced fruit, a ready stack of clean plates waiting off to the side. 

Tori looked ready to weep with joy. “Oh my God, Credence, that’s it. I’m kidnapping you to live here forever. Sorry Newt,” she said jokingly, “I’m taking him. He’s mine now.” Credence yelped out a laugh as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pretended to carry him off, spatula and all, lifting him right up off the floor.

“Hey!” said Graves mock-indignantly from the doorway. “What’s this? I haven’t even said good morning yet and you’re already trying to steal my boyfriend again?” His eyes widened when he saw the food. “Oh, wow.”

“See?” Tori crowed, hoisting a giggling Credence higher. “He’s clearly worth his weight in solid gold. Look, muffins too!”

“Well… It was all really easy to make…” Credence protested half-heartedly, but Tori wouldn’t hear it.

“You’re a wizard, Credence, a magical breakfast fairy. I don’t know how you had the brainpower to do all this so early in the morning.” She reluctantly set him down, and Graves immediately tugged him out of her grip, reeling him in for a hug and pressing a discrete kiss against his hair.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his grip a little tighter than usual on Credence’s waist and his dark gaze on the bruise under Credence’s eye. Credence wound an arm comfortably over the man’s shoulders and kissed his cheek, trying to ease the slight vulnerable tension from his face.

“Morning. You hungry?” he replied quietly. “There’s… Um, there’s coffee too.” But he was realizing as he spoke that the man might be feeling a little wary of consuming coffee again, considering that the last time he’d drunk it he’d been drugged and knocked out for a day. 

Indeed, Graves frowned slightly, his thumb idly dragging over the ridge of Credence’s hip. “I think I’ll make do without any caffeine this morning. Just your delicious food,” he said lowly, accepting the full plate Newt helpfully held out for him. He pressed a warm kiss to the man’s freckled cheek in greeting. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

The process of getting everybody food went quickly, still leaving a whole lot left over in the pan, and Credence was just starting to worry that he’d made too much when a gaggle of Tori’s friends appeared, looking sleepy and hopeful. He only vaguely recognized them from the blur of people and costumes last night, but Tori greeted them with immediate enthusiasm and they eagerly dished up some food, bestowing a confused but fervent thank-you upon Credence when it was explained that he had made most of it.

“Wow, this looks great, dude, thanks!”

“No problem,” Credence said easily, perched smiling on a raised seat at the counter with his plate in his hand, Graves pressed against his side. This must be what Jacob felt like all the time, what he had been talking about before with Queenie in the bakery. Food brought people together, and it made them happy. Company and contentment. What could be better than that? Life and happiness seemed so simple this morning, so clear and enjoyable. He wasn’t worried one bit what Tori’s friends thought of him, or about talking to them and not knowing what to say. There was no reason to be afraid or intimidated. Here he was, surrounded by several people who had begun as strangers and were now incredibly important to him. And they liked him. They liked who he was inside and out, and they cared about his interests and they appreciated his accomplishments.

It was nothing groundbreaking, not something that might not be a big deal for most people. But it was a big deal to Credence. 

It was nearing ten when the last of the stragglers appeared, a curvy woman with an easy smile who went to sit with Tori’s friends at the kitchen table, and a few minutes later a man with sandy blonde hair who looked like he was regretting how much he’d had to drink last night, eagerly digging into coffee, eggs, and pancakes until he looked marginally more comfortable.

“Doing alright there, Roche?” Jessica asked slyly, and the man groaned.

“That bartender you had last night was too good at her job, Boss,” he said to Sera, wincing. “I didn’t plan to have so many of those electric blue things, but she was so good at mixing them, and creative too.” He rubbed the back of his head ruefully. “It was incredible to watch.”

“And pretty adorable,” added Jessica. “The puppy eyes you were giving her didn’t work to get you her number, though?”

The man blushed, his eyes narrowing at her as he took a sip of coffee. “It was professional interest, thank you very much,” he grumbled, and Jessica laughed.

The kitchen was filled with happy chatter for a while after that, during which the food was all summarily devoured. Roche did a double-take when he finally noticed Graves sitting there in his casual tee shirt and jeans, one arm looped comfortably around Credence’s waist, his jaw unshaven and his face relaxed with contentment. Newt was animatedly conversing with one of Tori’s friends about Corgis while Tori herself did the dishes, pushing aside Credence’s offer to help and insisting that he relax. So, he did, leaning easily against Graves to ask Tina where Queenie had ended up.

“She left to take Jacob home after you’d gone to bed,” Tina explained, her fingers discretely tangled with Sera’s under the counter. “He was really apologetic about taking her away from the party, but I don’t think she minded one bit. She said to text her when we want to be picked up today.”

Of course. Jacob would’ve needed to be home this morning to open the bakery at seven. Credence hoped he’d at least managed a few hours of sleep. Maybe he could have Andrei cover for him in the afternoon so he could take a nap. 

“Mmkay,” he replied, nodding, noting with some amusement that neither he nor Tina seemed to be in a hurry to go anywhere. Graves’ fingers were idly drawing circles on his back, and Credence was warm and full of food.

Sera likewise seemed to be hoping that they would stay awhile, her eyes on Tina. “There’s no need to hurry,” she murmured. “No need to rush, not on my account. Make yourself at home.”

Shortly after that, Newt finished his discussion of the merits of dogs with short legs and big ears and wandered back over to the counter, tea in hand, to slide into the space next to Credence, his cheeks slightly pink from the steam wafting out of his mug. The man sighed happily as he slumped down on a raised chair and squeezed Credence’s knee, and Credence was hard-pressed to imagine ever being happier than he was right now.

Tori finished up the dishes, several of her friends pitching in to help put them away, and then the whole group of them left in a flurry of excited babbling to go to an event of some kind across town. Credence wasn’t really listening to the details because Newt had started idly massaging his shoulders at that point and he was too blissed out to pay attention. Fontaine winked at Credence as she said goodbye, thanking Sera fervently for her hospitality and vowing to see her on Monday morning bright and early. Roche, still a bit wide-eyed, bid farewell to Graves and Sera, nodding politely to the rest of them before hurrying out the door after Fontaine. Before it closed behind him, they caught the faint sound of his voice, incredulous and surprised.

“ _Both_ Bosses are in relationships, and you didn’t tell me? Shit, does Lopez know? We can’t let her win the betting pool _again_ …”

Graves huffed, and Sera raised an elegant eyebrow, sipping from her own mug of tea. “We’re big news, apparently,” she said dryly, her other arm stretched along the back of Tina’s chair. “I suppose we shouldn’t begrudge them their fun.”

Graves let out a put-upon sigh and said with theatrical weariness, “Yes, I suppose so. Give those poor hard-working souls something to entertain themselves with.”

Tina was grinning shyly, her cheeks pink and her gaze on the marble countertop. Newt pressed a quiet kiss on top of Credence’s head and wordlessly moved over to work his magic fingers into the muscles of Graves’ back, prompting a soft groan of appreciation.

“Holy shit, that… I didn’t realize…” he murmured, and Sera chuckled while Newt smiled softly.

“See?” Sera said triumphantly, leaning back in her chair. “I’ve always said you held onto too much tension.”

Graves’ only answer was a wordless moan as Newt’s clever hands pressed a bit harder.

“Actually, darling, I’m afraid I must agree with her,” he said, his accented voice low and soothing. “I can feel a great deal of tightness in your back, although yoga is probably helping to ease the strain through stretching and relaxation. I’d be happy to do a bit of deep tissue work later on, when we can use my massage table, but for now… hmmm… there’s a couple knots I can try and release for you… right… here…”

“Ahh,” Graves sighed, and Credence giggled softly.

The morning stretched effortlessly on, time slipping past in a languid warm haze as Sera took Tina upstairs to show her the music room, the faint sound of guitars drifting through the house. As it neared eleven thirty, Newt sighed and said regretfully, “Bugger. I really ought to get home and check on the lads. My neighbor was willing to let them out this morning, but they’re probably itching for a walk by now.”

Credence looked up from absently stroking the hair on Graves’ forearm where it was wrapped around his waist. “Oh, of course. Would you like company?”

Newt’s head popped up, smiling in surprise. “You’d… Would you want to come with? I’d enjoy that, if you were interested.” His eyes found Graves over Credence’s shoulder.

“Sure,” the man rumbled, his low voice vibrating against Credence’s back. “Why don’t we all go.”

The three of them made their way upstairs and discretely stripped the bed, putting the sheets in the laundry. Credence tugged on the pair of jeans he’d brought and zipped up his hoodie over the thunderbird shirt, watching hungrily as Newt stripped out of his pajamas, baring pale skin and tattoos for a moment before he pulled on a soft pair of corduroy pants and a knitted sweater. 

They gathered their things, carefully packing up their costumes and detouring to Tori’s work room to collect Credence’s antler crown. When he had scooped it off of the top of Tori’s filing cabinet, Credence turned to find that Graves was standing frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide with wonder as he stared at the large photos on the wall.

“Oh…” he breathed, gaping at the shots of Newt and Credence. “Wow, that’s…” He cleared his throat. 

“You like them?” Credence asked shyly.

“Baby,” Graves said fervently. “They’re… beyond beautiful. God, look at both of you.”

Credence wandered over, antlers dangling from his fingers, to press a kiss to the man’s cheek. “I’m glad you think so,” he murmured, nuzzling happily against his stubbled jaw while one of the man’s arms wound its way around his waist. “Tori is good at portraits. I never would’ve thought I could manage to look natural in a photo, but she was amazing at helping me relax.” Over Graves’ shoulder, he could see Newt blushing where he stood peeking in from the hallway, a shy smile lighting up his face.

It turned out to be a bit difficult to get Graves to leave the room, his eyes still locked on the photos even as Credence playfully towed him out the door. “You look so glamorous, baby. God, that makeup is hot. And Newt in the dress! Holy shit,” he exclaimed fervently as he was dragged away.

Newt, giggling, grabbed hold of Graves’ other arm. “I’ve got lots more dresses in my closet at home, darling.”

“That’s right,” Credence added, “and I’ve got prints of the pictures. So you can look at them whenever you want. Or you could just look at the real thing,” he said cheekily.

That did the trick, luring Graves out of the room, his grin wolfish as he scooped an arm around each of them. “You’re right,” he purred. “I can, can’t I? Lucky me.”

They found their way to the music room and said goodbye to Tina and Sera where they sat talking eagerly about some musician they both liked. Tina’s smile was glowing and sweet as she got up to hug Credence tightly.

“I’ll see you at home later, Bambi,” she murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. For a moment, her eyes dragged over the bruise on his cheek and her smile dimmed slightly. “You text me or Queenie if you need a ride or anything, alright? And let’s check in again in a few hours, either way.”

He nodded, accustomed to her affectionate concern. “Okay.”

Then the three of them were heading out into the sunshine, Newt and Credence toting their costumes carefully as they made their way to Graves’ car. It appeared to be untampered with, despite Gellert stealing it the previous night, and he’d even parked it neatly a precise six inches from the curb, just like Graves himself always did. Must be a family trait. 

“Huh,” Graves said, unlocking it and peering inside. “Doesn’t seem to be booby-trapped,” he said, only half-joking. “I don’t know what to expect from him anymore,” he muttered darkly, opening the glove compartment and making a triumphant noise of surprise as he pulled out his wallet and phone. “Kind of surprised to see these in one piece.”

“I suppose he was aiming for authenticity,” Newt said slowly. “In case someone pulled him over after he left the party.”

Graves grimaced. “You’re right. I wonder where he would’ve gone.” He snapped the glove compartment shut, shoving his wallet into his pocket. “Probably planned to make a clean getaway somewhere he could lay low for a while and put his plan into action, whatever was supposed to be next. Take over MACUSA, threaten to expose all of our customers’ innermost secrets, who knows.”

Credence clipped the hanger with his costume to the handle on the roof of the backseat, frowning. It had come so close. The man could’ve easily gotten away, if Sera hadn’t stopped him. And she had only chosen to act because Tori got in Gellert’s way, and she only did that because Artemis…

“Your quick thinking,” he blurted out, catching Newt’s surprised gaze as he straightened up from hanging his costume next to Credence’s. “Newt, he would’ve just left. You… If you hadn’t been so smart, and practical, and asked Tori to stop him… It’s all because of you. I would’ve just stood there, if you hadn’t come along. I was… frozen. And then he would’ve been gone.”

Newt was giving him a soft, astonished look, Graves’ brow furrowed as he took in this new information. “I… I suppose so,” Newt replied. 

“I owe you my gratitude then,” Graves said seriously. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now, but my brother needs to face up to what he’s done. Maybe needs mental help, I don’t…I… But the last thing he needed was to be loose in the city any longer. If you stopped him, I…” He looked miserable, grief-stricken and pale.

“I’m sorry that it was necessary,” breathed Newt, drifting closer and placing a gentle hand on his arm. “That the circumstances had become so awful. I mean… he’s still your brother.”

Graves’ face crumpled into a pained grimace. “Yes, but he’s… I don’t even recognize him anymore. I don’t know if I ever really knew him, if this other self was hiding inside him this whole time. Or maybe… maybe there was something… something I did, that put him on this path…”

“Whoa,” said Credence firmly, unable to let that train of thought continue. “No. His choices landed him here, not yours. I’ve… I’ve been through a whole lot of misplaced guilt myself and I can tell you it doesn’t help anyone. I used to blame myself, for… for being a…” He took a shaky breath, Graves’ warm hand on his elbow. “A bad son, for forcing her to discipline me, for… for turning her cruel. I thought I’d made her so unhappy that she… She had to become…” He swallowed around the faint bile of reviving those particular ghosts, the memory of all that internalized shame. “But Juliet helped me see that none of it had to do with me,” he finished staunchly. “I had no control over her actions, just like you didn’t make your brother do any of those things.”

Newt was watching with wide eyes as Credence clutched Graves’ shirt, wanting to make this clear. “Not your fault, I promise,” he whispered. “If you need to hear it a few more times, I’ll keep on saying it every so often. So you remember.”

Graves’ fingers tangled themselves in Credence’s hair as he kissed him, raw and slightly desperate. “Alright, angel,” he said hoarsely. “You… I believe you.” They kissed again, lingering and warm, and when they parted Graves was smiling, even if the corners of it looked a little sad. 

The car ride through the city was somewhat subdued after that, Newt wordlessly ceding the front seat to Credence, his green eyes solemn. They were winding their way south toward downtown, passing within a few blocks of the bakery and then continuing on toward Queen Anne hill, the sun glinting off the fall leaves as they flashed by in a blur of orange and yellow. Newt’s hand crept over the back of Credence’s seat at one point to sit lightly on his shoulder, the gesture so reminiscent of Queenie that Credence had to smile. 

“Darling,” Newt murmured. “I don’t want to pry. You don’t have to tell me what happened in your past. Just wanted to say that I can see you’ve been through a great deal, and yet what stands out is your strength.” Quietly, Credence slid his own scarred palm up to cover Newt’s where it rested on his shoulder, squeezing his hand slightly. 

They passed Credence’s block, something surreal trickling down his spine at the strangeness of remembering their hurried prep at home before the party. Before… everything that had happened. Both the bad and the incredibly good. 

Newt’s apartment was even more charming in the daylight than it had been the last two times Credence had visited in the dark. There were cheery flower boxes in some of the windows on the ground floor with various autumn blooms, and he could faintly hear somebody’s TV going and the sound of laughter. They climbed the stairs to Newt’s door where they were met with a chorus of barking on the other side.

“Oh dear,” Newt murmured, hurrying to get out his keys, “they can get a bit antsy when I leave them alone overnight.” Newt’s face instantly relaxed when he could lay eyes on all of the members of his precious brood, and their barks in turn seemed to lose their frantic edge. “Darlings, it’s alright, I’m back,” he murmured, kneeling in the middle of the adorable furry tornado. “Yes, yes, I’m here, mum’s here. I missed you too.”

Laughing, Credence watched as Newt’s face and neck were snuffled and slobbered on, Picket trying his best to climb into the man’s lap while Dougal licked his cheeks and Frank burrowed into his chest. Bandit was licking his ankle, stubby little tail wagging madly. After a few moments, the small black dog detached from the group to adventure out onto the doorstep and investigate Credence’s shiny silver boots, a bit of a hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Oh, no you don’t, silly. Those aren’t food. The paint might make you sick,” Credence said, gently keeping the dog away from his feet. He pulled off his boots intstead, tugging Bandit back inside the apartment and making room for Graves to cross the threshold, his expression a little overwhelmed.

“Don’t worry,” Newt supplied from his puppy pile on the floor, perhaps catching sight of Graves’ face. “They aren’t always this rambunctious. Er… just very happy to see me. They’re quite well behaved, as a matter of fact. Right, Credence?”

“Yep,” he replied happily, setting his boots out of reach on the cat tree and managing to interest Bandit in one of his sparkly toys instead. “You should see them all conked out on the couch asleep. They’re so cute,” he gushed, eagerly petting Frank’s ears when he decided Credence needed to be nuzzled too. “And on walks they’re very polite. Even managed to charm Mrs. Esposito.”

“Your landlady?” Graves asked, raising his eyebrows.

Newt giggled, nodding. “Oh, that’s right. I thought she was coming out to yell at me, but all she wanted was to say hello. She’s got a bit of a soft spot for dogs, perhaps. Even if she doesn’t allow them in her building.”

Credence grinned, kneeling so that he could snuggle with Frank, Pickett carefully sniffing his fingers. “Have they eaten already?”

“Oh! Yes, the girl upstairs said she’d pop some food in their bowls. Let me just go check how they’re doing on water.” Newt disappeared for a moment, Frank hesitating before following him into the kitchen, which left Credence’s face open for Dougal’s slobbery tongue.

“Dougal! Yes, wow. Lovely,” he laughed, wiping his cheek on his shirt while the shaggy dog’s tail thwapped against the floor happily. Bandit had abandoned his toy and was now eagerly sniffing Graves, closely followed by Pickett, and the man hesitantly reached down to scratch over each of their small heads.

“Four dogs,” he breathed. “And I thought one cat was a lot of work.”

Appropriately, Credence caught sight of Morgana then, her fluffy tail held up behind her as she slunk out of Newt’s bedroom and came to investigate the ruckus. He giggled as she came over and rubbed against his hip, staring up at him imperiously until he started petting her.

“This is Morgana,” he explained. “Speaking of cats.” She arched her spine pleasurably as his massaging fingers worked their way down her back, tracing the striped pattern of her fur. “Newt says she’s the queen of the house.”

Graves chuckled. “Somehow I don’t doubt that. She’s very regal.”

At that point, Newt returned with four jingling leashes in his hand, Frank already outfitted in his walking harness and obediently heading toward the door.

“Well, you’re welcome to just stay here and relax if you like,” Newt said slightly breathlessly as he wrangled Bandit into his small harness and rewarded him with a scratch behind the ears and a small treat. “I’ll just pop out for a half-hour or so, let them stretch their legs and sniff something other than the apartment for a bit. Or if… if you need to be getting home, Graves, to check on Muriel…”

“Actually,” the man said reassuringly, “She’s staying at my neighbor’s house for a few days. She almost insisted. What with the broken window, glass on the floor, and all the police around. And just in case the house was broken into again.” He was absently petting Pickett’s small head still, the little dog’s tail wagging happily. “I do want to go check in on her later today, but I have some time.”

“Oh,” Newt said with a soft smile, “alright then. If you two decide you’d like to stay here while I’m gone…”

“Could we come on the walk with you?” Credence interjected hopefully, watching Newt clip Dougal’s leash on and then lure Pickett away from Graves with a soft murmur and an adorable little beckoning gesture that had the dog happily trotting over to be outfitted as well.

Newt looked up at Credence, beaming, all four dogs leashed and ready. “Of course, darling.” 

Delighted, Credence smiled back. It was a sort of sweet, private thrill, to be folded right into Newt’s routine.

And then they were off. Graves ended up borrowing a sweater from Newt’s closet, the only one wide enough in the shoulders to fit him: a cozy fair-isle that made him look unfairly irresistible and very huggable. Dougal bounded happily next to Credence, who was very carefully holding his leash with both hands, while Frank serenely trotted ahead of Graves. Pickett stared adoringly up at Newt as he scampered along, while Bandit intermittently had to be tugged away from various distractions - the crinkly silver wrapper of a candy bar from last night, a shiny quarter someone dropped on the street, and all manner of other things.

“No, no, that’s not food,” Newt repeated patiently, as the black dog took a nose dive in some bushes after a bottle cap. “Oh, darling. You daft little bugger, what are you doing? Come along, now.” Incredibly, Bandit did listen, even if it took Newt a few tries to pull his attention away, holding the leash tight to prevent him from reaching his quarry and swallowing it. “He’s always a bit of a handful,” he sighed to Credence, but he was smiling at the same time.

A few blocks further south and they ended up at a small park with a playground, a number of families taking advantage of the good weather this late in the season to get their kids some fresh air. And maybe burn off some of the sugar from last night’s Halloween candy haul. There was a little girl shrieking with laughter on the swings as her mother pretended to try and capture her each time she swung closer, and Credence couldn’t help but think of Zoey and wonder what she and her parents were up to today. He felt a smile spread across his face as he remembered her sparkly nails from last night, and how much fun it had been to spend the evening with her. Their babysitting time together was going to be epic, he could already tell. Blanket forts and make-believe and pillow fights.

The rest of the walk passed in contented quiet, Credence matching pace with Dougal’s eager footsteps, the dog’s fluffy tail brushing against his knee. Newt was humming something, a familiar-sounding song that might’ve been from a movie. He had a beautiful voice.

When they got back to the apartment, Graves got to experience a true Scamander puppy pile, curled on the couch between Credence and Newt while the dogs and Morgana draped themselves on top of various laps and legs. There was something on TV about armadillos, and Credence decided to try his hand at massaging Graves’ shoulders while Newt gave him pointers.

“Yes, very good. You can use your thumbs in one long sweep like that, or do more focused pressing with your fingertips or knuckles. A tight squeeze on the traps also can feel quite nice, just check in with him to make sure the pressure is alright.”

“Mmph,” Graves breathed. “Yes. That’s…. mmm. That’s fine.”

Credence did his best to imitate the firm, gentle circles Newt had used on his neck that night in the bath, fascinated by the play of muscles and skin under his fingers. He wanted to touch Graves in every possible way, sexual and not sexual, and there was something so very intimate about this, bringing him pleasure and relaxation.

Somehow, the massaging evolved into kissing, an irresistible soft brush of lips against the vulnerable nape of Graves’ neck, the delicate knobs of his spine, the small mole behind his ear. Morgana, disgruntled, had to move out of Newt’s lap as the three of them shifted closer, Credence tucking his chin onto Graves’ shoulder to kiss his cheek while Newt leaned over and kissed them both with lips that tasted of honey-sweetened tea.

They migrated to the bedroom after that, for a while, sunk deep in contentment and happy to just lie tangled together, leisurely exploring each other without the hurried lust of the previous night. He pressed his cheek against Graves’ chest in his borrowed sweater, Newt’s fingers carding through his hair and Graves’ heartbeat pounded under his ear.

Later, he knew, Newt would have to go to his volunteer shift at the shelter. And perhaps Credence would go with Graves to drop him off, pressing lingering sappy good-bye kisses all over his face as they made plans to see each other again for dinner. Then he’d go with Graves to make sure Muriel was okay, and to help clean up the house and try out his incredible kitchen.

And then there would be dinner. And maybe sex. Definitely sex.

And there’d be more yoga next week, and running, and the photo exhibition opening to look forward to, and interrogating Queenie about when she was going to go out with Jacob again. Babysitting Zoey, and playing Andromeda’s computer game, and telling his sisters all about Newt’s dogs. There would be more evenings spent with his cousins watching movies while Queenie brushed his hair and Tina made fun of the plot holes, her laughter vibrating against Credence’s side. 

His twenty-fifth birthday. Maybe he’d have a real party this year.

He could see it all stretched out in front of him, a bright tapestry of days. Going running with Graves outside in the spring, painting his nails curled up with Newt on the sofa. More afternoons like this one, where he got to spend time with both of them in quiet contentment. Reading. Baking. Finishing college. Who knew what else.

When had life become so beautiful? It was almost too stunning to be real. All this possibility, none of which had existed in the drifting grey vapor of his reality not so long ago. Yet, here it was, beckoning him. Life was waiting.

But that was all to come later. Right now, he was content to bury his face in Graves’ neck, the soft wool of his sweater smelling faintly of Newt’s shampoo, the low murmur of their voices surrounding him. Newt’s legs were tangled up with Credence’s, a warm hand wrapped around his ribs. Graves pressed a kiss against his forehead.

“You alright there, angel? Comfortable?”

Credence had a feeling he would never tire of the thrill of hearing the man’s voice soften just for him, laden with care and affection.

“Yeah,” he murmured, twining his fingers with Newt’s and nuzzling against Graves’ cheek. “I’m just right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go. A final chapter, almost entirely fluff :D   
> Thank you so much for reading, for sticking with me through this long story. I'm so grateful for your feedback and your kudos, they make me so happy!
> 
> I'm totally hooked on writing this and I can't seem to let it go, so there's still an epilogue to come, set several months later.  
> It might be a couple days before I post it, since I'm still finishing the very end :)


	21. Corpse Pose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, dear readers, this epilogue has nothing to do with death (in case the title had you worried). Corpse pose is just the last pose in yoga, where you get to lie there and feel happy and tired and awesome. Kind of like I feel right now, thanks to YOU if you're reading this. Whether you're just a casual reader passing through, or whether you've been leaving me comments since the night I posted chapter one, I appreciate you.
> 
> I treasure every single one of your kudos. They fuel me to start another story.

Mornings in August were warm and bone-meltingly lazy, the whir of the fan and the fresh flutter of the curtains tempting Credence to stay in bed. But he could hear Graves stirring, the alarm clock about to sound, Newt’s soft breathing even and slow on his other side. Grinning, Credence rose up on his elbow and kissed Graves’ bare shoulder, reaching across him to turn off the alarm. Graves always said he preferred to be woken by Credence anyway.

“Good morning,” he whispered, kissing the man’s cheek, his neck, his ear.

“Mmmh,” came the sleepy reply, a muscular arm tightening around his waist. “Morning, baby.” Graves rolled closer, burying his face in Credence’s chest, his breathing promptly deepening once more. Stifling a laugh, Credence ran his fingers through the man’s dark hair, tugging lightly.

“Hey. Handsome, you want to go for a run with me?” There was a muffled noise against his sternum, probably of assent, followed by a slightly wheezing snore from Newt. It was lucky he slept like a log, always staying conked out while Credence and Graves made their way clumsily through the house and got the dogs ready.

Speaking of the dogs, they were excited this morning, already waiting by the door when Credence and a still-groggy Graves emerged from the bedroom in their running gear. Frank and Dougal’s tails thumped against the floor as they patiently allowed Graves to slide their harnesses on while Credence tied back his hair, kneeling to scratch Pickett and Bandit on the head.

“We’ll see you two little guys later, okay? Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten you.”

The morning still held a hint of crispness, cool night slowly evaporating as the early sunshine spread like golden syrup across the sidewalk. The mountains glimmered far and white across to the west, the water and the sky a pure deep blue. Credence stretched, beaming, Dougal already eagerly sniffing the air and tugging at the leash clipped around Credence’s waist.

“You’re ready to go, huh buddy?” he murmured fondly, watching Graves adjust Frank’s leash before the four of them set out into the quiet of the morning, footsteps echoing in the sleepy neighborhood. Credence could smell the salt water, faint and clean, the lush bloom of honeysuckle and the sun-warm soil. The familiar expansion of his lungs, the warm feel of his leg muscles and the burn of exertion filled him with pleasant heat as they wound their way up the hill.

The miles came easy these days, three or four on a weekday, five or six on a weekend. But they weren’t rigid about it. Some mornings, they were in the mood for… _other_ activities before work. Their breathing grew heavier as they neared the top of the hill, both of them gratefully pressing onward to the flat section ahead. 

Hill training was excellent conditioning. Frank and Dougal bounded happily along, panting, Frank looking over his shoulder every so often to give them a doggy grin while Dougal rubbed up against the bushes as they passed, marking his territory. They were working up to being able to take the dogs on longer trail runs in the mountains, maybe even backpacking, if he and Newt managed to convince Graves that roughing it in the wilderness would, in fact, be fun.

Another few blocks east and they could start to hear the pulse of the city beginning its day, the rush of traffic headed to work, the shuffle of footsteps outside the breakfast bistros and cafes of the busy street on the other side of their quiet residential bubble. They turned back toward the water, avoiding the cars and the noise, the triumphant pounding of their feet growing faster as they got closer to home, racing down the last stretch to halt, gasping, in front of their tidy yard, Muriel perched like a tiny black shadow in the upstairs window.

Credence giggled as Graves caught him around the waist, his eyes sparkling and his cheeks flushed. “I’m always glad that you got me out of bed for this,” he said, low and breathless, nuzzling in for a kiss that quickly turned a little bit wild and deliciously messy. Adrenaline still pounded in Credence’s chest, his arms eagerly winding around Graves’ shoulders as their tongues slid together, happy and warm. Credence squeaked as Frank licked the sweat off the back of his knee, throwing his head back in helpless laughter while Graves pressed kiss after kiss against his throat. 

They finally got themselves and the dogs back inside the house, letting Pickett and Bandit out into the fenced back yard while Morgana blinked open drowsy green eyes from the sofa.

“Hello, Queen Morgie,” cooed Credence, bending to kiss her velvety head. “You want some breakfast?”

The sound of the can opener lured Muriel down from her bird-watching spot upstairs in Newt’s massage studio, and soon the two cats were curled side by side at the food bowls, Morgana’s fluffy tail brushing against Muriel’s small slender one. It was quick work to fill the dogs’ dishes, pulling the back door closed again as the rush of paws brought them all into the kitchen. Credence carefully stretched his leg muscles, balancing himself with a hand on Graves’ shoulder, watching fondly as the animals all devoured their food.

And then it was shower time. Sometimes, if the timing was right, they got to tackle Newt in bed and drag him into the bathroom giggling, but this morning he was already sitting up and blinking sleepily, his alarm turned off and his hair adorably mussed. The sheets pooled around his waist as he moved, falling away to reveal a tantalizing expanse of pale skin as the man unfolded himself from the bed. He stretched, long and delicious, and then folded himself down onto the soft carpet for a sun salutation. While completely naked.

Credence and Graves watched hungrily, stripping out of their sweaty running gear and flinging it into the laundry while Newt arched and flexed his spine in a series of cat-cows, his back muscles rippling and the pert roundness of his ass almost obscene. The winged serpent tattoo between his shoulder blades glimmered in the sunlight that painted his skin, as did the irresistible freckles in the small of his back. Just begging to be kissed, really.

So kiss him they did. No sooner had Newt risen from his morning flow, then Credence scooped him into his arms, kissing the freckles on his pale shoulder while Graves eagerly pressed against the man from behind, broad hands covering his lean hips. They made their way to the shower in a tangle of sighs and happy wet sounds, Credence’s tongue finding its way into Newt’s mouth while Graves turned on the water. It was a slippery, giddy experience, showering with three people and six wandering hands, Newt whimpering as Graves fisted his cock while Credence licked the water droplets off his tight pink nipples.

Eventually, they all got clean, even if Graves’ abdomen had to be scrubbed a second time after Credence came all over him, moaning against his lips and squirming with two of Newt’s fingers up his ass. Toweling off likewise devolved into happy kissing and a good deal of playful groping before they all ended up dry. 

Credence combed his wet hair back into a bun while Newt brushed his teeth, both of their eyes fixed on the elegant flick of Graves’ wrist as he expertly handled the razor for his morning shave.

God, that never got less hot.

After their morning toiletries came breakfast, when Credence got to run around Graves’ incredible kitchen in his underwear and put together whatever he felt like making that day – omelets or crepes or smoothies or grilled sandwiches. He loved to experiment. Today he decided to use their new Panini maker, which had been a present from Sera for Graves’ birthday.

“Mmm,” Newt hummed around a mouthful of artichoke and pesto and roasted red pepper. “You spoil us, darling.”

Credence giggled as Graves kissed his cheek. “Delicious, baby.” He gently bit Credence’s ear, right next to his new silver stud earring. “Absolutely fucking delectable.”

It was a Thursday, which meant that all too soon it was time to get dressed and head out for work, the three of them piling into Graves’ car to join the marching line of commuters streaming into the heart of the city. MACUSA’s central office was in Queen Anne, just a couple blocks from the gym and the brand-new second location of Kowalski’s Baked Goods, which Andrei managed full-time. They said their farewells in the quiet of the parking garage below Graves’ office, sending him off toward the elevators with several last murmurs of affection. Newt and Credence emerged onto the sidewalk in the sunshine, holding hands, to stroll down the street to the bakery, where a handmade sign in the window declared ‘Fresh Breakfast Paninis – The Unsung Heroes of Sandwiches.’

Newt grinned as he kissed Credence goodbye. “I’ll see you at the restaurant for dinner, love. And then we’ve got the play tonight.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Credence replied happily. Queenie had gotten a handful of free comp tickets to one of the shows she was costuming, and they’d decided to go out to dinner beforehand, make a night of it. “Hope the morning class goes well. Have a good day, beautiful.”

“You too, darling,” Newt murmured, the sunshine turning his eyelashes to spun gold. 

Credence could see Andrei helping a customer inside, so he regretfully let go of Newt and slipped in the door with a jingle of the bell.

“Ah! Jelonek!” Andrei boomed, finishing ringing up the customer’s order with a grin. “Jake wanted me to tell you he and Queenie are stopping by this afternoon to brainstorm more pastry ideas, so if you wanted you could take the morning to sketch or experiment in the back.” He winked. “You always come up with the most incredible flavor combinations.”

Credence beamed. “Sounds good.” This was his favorite part of the job, really. Messing around in the kitchen with dough and spices and chocolate.

He wound his way behind the counter to put his things away, effortlessly dodging out of Andrei’s way as he reached into the case to help another customer. The awkwardness with Andrei had long since passed, and they worked incredibly well as a team, like two cogs in the same machine. In fact, the man had become a dear friend, someone who Credence admired more and more for his easy way with customers and his absolute devotion to Zoey.

It had been a very pleasant surprise, therefore, when a few months back Tori had walked into the shop and taken one look at Andrei before breaking into a toothy grin and beginning to flirt with him outrageously over the counter. 

The man had been so excited he almost dropped a pie.

As it turned out, Tori loved soccer. And tall men with beards. Especially if they could speak a second language.

These days, Credence was in charge of most of the workings in the back of the shop while Andrei oversaw the front, though they still traded off every so often when they needed a break. This location was smaller than the original Kowalski’s Bakery, just large enough to do a solid stream of special orders and a good variety of sandwiches and savory stuffed breads. Their case of sweet pastries was kept full by Jacob’s delivery each morning, and then re-filled by Credence throughout the day, and they were working on training a couple new hires to do the baking on his days off.

Credence nodded to Sun, who was at the oven keeping an eye on the piroshky, and pulled on his apron, eagerly getting to work.

What sort of creatures did they not have yet among their creations? There were winged horses and dragons, griffons and bears and lions, and all manner of other mighty beasts. What had they not done yet?

Hmm. Maybe a platypus.

The design process was very relaxing. Credence imagined this was what it might feel like to be Queenie in her studio, sketching out dresses and costumes. He sat at the break table with a sketchpad and a cup of tea, surrounded by the smell of baking bread, and drew a round little creature that looked something like the tattoo on Newt’s ankle, with dark little eyes. A broad flat beak, webbed feet, and a cute tubby body.

Yep. That was it. Maybe dried currants for the eyes, and cinnamon and orange and cardamom in the dough. Stuffed with golden raisins and apricot jam, as if it were filled with treasure. Grinning, he took a photo of it and sent it to Newt.

The morning passed in a blissful haze of sketching, marked by pauses during which he helped Sun shape another batch of sriracha and red pepper salamanders, and then roll out the garlic jalapeño dough for their savory doughnuts. There was a phone call for him around eleven, Sera checking in to ask for a box of sandwiches and baked goods to be delivered to the conference room in an hour for lunch.

“Just whatever you’ve got on hand, honey, no need to go to any trouble. I’m sorry this is last minute. We had a hellish presentation this morning with a really difficult client, and I think the team could all use a pick-me-up.”

“Of course,” Credence replied fervently. “Sera, you know we’ve always got time for an order for you! It’s all thanks to you that we got this second location. I’ll bring them up myself.”

“You’re an angel, Credence,” she sighed. “Thank you. By the way, I loved those spicy lizards you added to the menu last week. Tina brought me a sample.”

Credence grinned. “Yep. Had a feeling you would. Jacob loved the idea of going savory with some of the animals, and I immediately wanted to do something spicy with peppers, inspired by that place we went out to eat for your birthday.”

“Genius,” Sera cooed. “You’re so thoughtful. Sweetie, I’ve got to go, but I look forward to seeing you in an hour. My grumpy security director does too, he’s scowling at me through the door.” Her voice grew muffled, like she was leaning away from the phone. “Don’t look at me like that, Percy, I’m doing you a favor. Guess who I’m talking to?” 

Then her voice was back at the earpiece, speaking quietly. “He’s still frustrated that the client didn’t take our offer. Gellert’s stupid propaganda again.” She sighed. “His associates have still managed to be a thorn in our side even with their leader out of the picture, spreading lies and rumors about us. But we fully expect the clients to come crawling back when the Grindelwald Security Company collapses under all the law suits we’ve got pending, and then we can finally start having more success. It’s just maddening, in the meantime, to put in all this work and not have it pay off.”

“Ah,” Credence murmured. “Sorry to hear that. Sounds like it’s an uphill battle, but I’m sure you’ll push through it. I’ll bring an extra turkey and swiss for Graves and do my best to cheer him up.”

“That sounds perfect,” Sera replied. He could hear the smile in her voice. “That man and his boring, non-spicy food,” she said exasperatedly. “Well, I can’t fault his taste in boyfriends, at least. Bye, honey.”

“Bye!”

They were coming up on the lunch rush, so there were two extra trainees working the register out front when Credence slipped behind the counter to fill a box with assorted savory treats, making sure to add in a few sweet ones as well. He nodded to Andrei, who was giving pointers to the new hires and helping to keep the line moving.

“Got a call from Sera,” Credence explained. “I’ll add it to her tab. What time is Jacob coming?”

Andrei turned away to check the calendar tacked to the wall behind him. “He said he’d be in around one. You want to go ahead and take your break now?” he asked, with a knowing smile.

“Um. If that works for you. I think Sun’s got it under control back there. She’s really getting good at braiding those doughnuts, and if she needs your help she’ll holler.”

“Then it sounds like we’re in good shape,” Andrei replied. “Go on, Jelonek, say hello to your grumpy man for me.”

Credence snorted. “I will.” 

It had been a bit awkward, the first time Graves had met Andrei, especially because Credence had still been sporting a fading bruise on his cheek at the time. There had been tense words, and a whole lot of scowling, until finally the misunderstandings had cleared themselves up. The two of them seemed to have reached neutral ground, though they might never be considered close friends.

Newt, on the other hand, had charmed the tall man immediately that first day with his innocent questions about the differences between football and soccer, which left Graves frowning slightly.

“He knows that we’re all dating, right? That Newt is taken?” he’d murmured surreptitiously in Credence’s ear.

“Yes, he does. I told him myself,” Credence reassured him, his eyes dragging possessively over Newt’s smiling face.

“Alright,” Graves muttered. “Good.” But he still looked a little petulant, his lips pinched in a tiny frown. “I don’t think…. They… None of your co-workers like me.” Mila had been staring, and Dana’s smirk had a bit of an edge to it. “And that adorable little girl keeps giving me the stink-eye.”

Credence had been hard-pressed to stifle his giggles. Nothing had prepared him for the hilarity of watching Graves with Zoey, who had a mild case of jealousy going on. She wasn’t used to other people competing with her for Credence’s attention, and it took a while for her to warm up to the idea that he had not one but _two_ boyfriends now. Graves had tried patiently to win her friendship, but it still took Credence interceding on his behalf to get her to stop sticking her tongue out at him whenever he spoke to her. 

Again, however, Newt was a different story. Zoey loved his accent, and the leopard on his shirt, and she had just about flipped when he showed her all his pictures of Morgie.

“He’s so good with kids,” Graves murmured wistfully to Credence, with a hint of a pout. 

“Aw, don’t worry,” Credence had cooed, propping his chin on Graves’ shoulder and squeezing his hand. “She’ll warm up to you too, I promise.”

And she had, though it had taken a while. Credence grinned to himself as he pulled off his apron and tied the box of pastries closed, heading out into the bright sunlight and the baking August heat, lost in happy recollection. It had probably been that trip to the zoo that really clinched it, when Zoey had wanted to see the tigers but couldn’t because there were too many people in the way, and Graves had quietly offered to put her on his shoulders because Credence was already carrying her backpack. Credence and Newt had surreptitiously taken several photos of the heart-melting scene that followed, in which Zoey grudgingly accepted his offer and then spent the remainder of the day chatting happily to Graves about all the animals, perched contentedly on his shoulders and growing less and less frosty toward him the longer he let her stay up there. 

Of course, Newt had to massage the kinks out of the man’s tired back later, but his glowing smile hinted that it had been worth it. What a softie.

The photos from that day were carefully saved on his phone and backed up on his computer, along with a whole host of other precious moments from the past year. There were pictures of the gallery opening for Tori’s show, everyone dressed to the nines and tipsy off champagne and happiness, photos of Thanksgiving at the Picquery house, Chanukah with the Kowalskis, Christmas with his sisters and the Grants, another giant costume party hosted by Sera and Tori for New Year’s Eve, during which Graves had gifted Newt and Credence with spare keys to his house. Pictures of the day he got to meet Juliet and Kingsley’s new baby. 

There were moments captured from the weekend trips they’d taken to the San Juan Islands, photos of the dogs frolicking on the beach while Graves spread sunscreen on Newt’s pale shoulders, Credence in his hiking boots with Pickett’s tiny head poking out of the top of his day pack. 

There was a particularly adorable snapshot of Artemis, wearing one of Credence’s hoodies, grinning softly in triumph with Muriel curled in her lap for the first time, looking cranky but content. Pictures he’d taken of Tina playing her guitar, Queenie working in her studio, the two of them beaming at him on the deck of the ferry they had taken to Bainbridge Island to visit the extended Goldstein family for Purim, squinting against the salty wind as it ruffled their hair.

It was a veritable treasure trove on his phone, a rich deposit of memories, stretching all the way back to his first few shots of Newt and Graves, taken that lazy afternoon after Halloween, the three of them curled sleepily in bed with Morgana sprawled demandingly across Newt’s chest.

Credence thumbed at the screen now, checking the time, as he entered the lobby on the ground floor of MACUSA’s building and nodded at the security guard. His phone wallpaper was a picture Tori had sneakily taken of the three of them at the gallery opening, Credence smiling shyly at Graves with Newt pressed in between them, one freckled arm wound possessively around each of their waists. Newt had been so adorable in his little vest and bowtie it had been nearly impossible to keep their hands off him, but they had managed to refrain somehow. At least until they got home. 

Credence had been wearing another custom Queenie-made shift tunic, this one a deep red, with lipstick to match, and Tori’s photo had captured a tell-tale smear of carmine on Graves’ handsome jaw, just above the collar of his impeccable suit. Perhaps, if Credence was being honest with himself, he may not have wiped that kiss off as thoroughly as he could have, just to make sure none of Tori’s beautiful artist friends got it into their heads that Graves might be on the market. He really did look incredibly hot in that suit.

Credence made his way across the lobby to the elevators, smiling in anticipation of seeing the man for lunch. If Newt had been able to join them, it would’ve been even more perfect, but he was already on the bus back home to let the dogs out and take a massage client before his volunteer shift at the shelter. Credence would just have to be patient until this evening.

“Well, well.” There were footsteps behind him, and Credence turned to see Fontaine, her eyes sparkling as she grinned. “Boss sprang for treats today, huh?” The doors opened, and she stepped smartly into the elevator, followed by a young man with a pair of thick-rimmed glasses who was clutching a crisp new binder full of paperwork.

“Hello, Jessica,” Credence said politely, joining them in the carriage and watching in amusement as she sniffed the air hopefully.

“God, that smells good. Did you bring those spicy lizard things?” she asked.

“Yep. As many as I could fit. But you’d better get in there fast; Sera has a thing for peppers,” he replied, grinning.

“And don’t I know it,” she exclaimed. “That place we went for her birthday… whew! Everything was so hot, my tongue needed therapy after.”

The guy with the glasses was watching the two of them in confusion.

“Oh!” Fontaine chirped. “Right.” She gestured toward him. “Matt Lennox. New intern. Lennox, this is Credence, angel sent from heaven to deliver food to the conference room. If you ever see him appear carrying a box, _tell me_. It contains ambrosia from the gods.”

Credence snorted.

Lennox was squinting at the logo on top of the pastry box. “Wow, that’s really nice of you to bring food, man. Kowalski’s? I haven’t heard of that place, but it smells good.”

“It’s a bakery and sandwich shop,” Credence explained politely. “Just down the street. Very convenient for last-minute lunchtime orders.” He grinned, straightening the collar on his button-up shirt as the doors slid open. “Jessica, are you headed to the conference room?”

“You bet I am, if that’s where you’re going,” she said, grinning impishly. “This is a very important part of the tour, after all. Lennox, observe. Here are all the meeting rooms and the desks for the security department. And down that hallway, of course, is the Security Director’s office.” She winked at Credence. “And down this way is the records department, and then the accounting office, but we are taking a _left_ instead, to head toward the main conference room. Madam Picquery’s suite is just on the other side of that glass wall, past Abernathy’s desk and all of those filing cabinets, and… here we are. Main conference room. Also, sometimes, the debriefing room or the unofficial break room when everybody needs to take a working lunch. Ooh! There’s fresh coffee.”

There were several people milling around inside, though neither Sera nor Graves were among them, and the long table was covered in stacks of tidy paper and a somewhat disorganized pile of folders. It looked as though they’d just finished with some sort of debriefing. Credence set the large box of food down at one end, and was immediately greeted with a tired-sounding cheer from Lopez, who made a bee-line for the pastries and smiled appreciatively at the variety inside.

“Mmm, looks fantastic as always. Thanks, Credence.”

The rest of the employees were crowding closer, so Credence stepped out of the way with a nod, receiving a friendly pat on the shoulder from Weiss. He had a separate bag of sandwiches to bring to Graves’ office next, but he often liked to linger for a moment to watch people enjoying his creations.

Lennox, who had gotten one of the tomato, swiss, and arugula Paninis, was staring down at his sandwich in wonder. He skirted the crowd to meander back over to Credence, who was watching in amusement as Jessica devoured her second spicy salamander. Sera had better get in here quickly.

“Wow, this is good,” Lennox said, grinning and licking a bit of tomato sauce off his thumb. “I’m having a great first day already.” Credence beamed back at him. It always made him so happy when someone complimented the bakery’s food.

“I’m glad to hear that,” said a voice behind them, and Sera appeared in a clack of boot heels and a swish of her perfectly ironed pantsuit.

Lennox quickly straightened up, wiping his hand on a napkin. “Madam President,” he said respectfully.

She smiled at him with just the right balance of warmth and professionalism. “Welcome to the team, Lennox. I understand Fontaine has been showing you around?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the intern replied. “She showed me the lobby, and this floor, and then… um…” He trailed off, glancing toward where the woman herself was still eagerly munching on a spicy salamander. She looked up, eyes going wide when she saw them all looking.

“Fontaine,” Sera said dryly. “I hope you’re leaving some spicy ones for me. And do be sure you finish the tour before coming back for thirds.”

Fontaine swallowed her mouthful and nodded sheepishly. “Of course, Boss. I’ll stop there for now. Gosh, they’re just so good,” she said fervently.

“They are indeed,” Sera replied, squeezing Credence’s shoulder. “Thank you, again,” she murmured into his ear. “He’s in his office.” And then she was striding into the fray to claim a sandwich and a salamander.

“Credence,” Fontaine said, heading toward the door. “You going back out this way?” She was leading Lennox back into the hall, in the direction of Graves’ door. “What am I saying, of course you are.”

He grinned at her, brandishing his bag of sandwiches. “Got one more delivery,” he said happily.

“So frickin’ adorable,” she muttered, shaking her head in mock-exasperation.

Lennox was chewing his last bite of sandwich, watching the two of them curiously. “So, Credence, are you also an intern? Or do the others just take advantage of how nice you are and make you go on the food runs?”

Credence blinked at him in surprise. “Oh, no… I’m… I don’t work here,” he explained. He supposed it would be easy to make that mistake, considering he was dressed in office wear. But that was only because… um…. Because a certain someone particularly enjoyed seeing him in business casual. “I’m assistant manager at the bakery, it just happens to be my lunch hour,” he added cheerfully.

“Oh! Got it,” the man replied, perhaps looking a bit disappointed. “Wow, it’s nice of you to make the delivery yourself, then. Do you stop by often?”

“As often as Sera asks me to,” Credence said gaily. “And sometimes when she doesn’t.”

They were almost to the turn-off toward Graves’ office, and he felt giddy with excitement, itching to be in his boyfriend’s arms again. He was always happiest when they were together, all three of them especially, and he was already feeling a needy tug of longing despite the fact it had only been a scant few hours since they’d parted this morning. He couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face, bright with sunny happiness.

“Wow.” Lennox was blinking at him. “You mean… When you say ‘Sera,’ is that…?”

“Yep, he means Madam President,” Fontaine cut in brightly. “This way! We’ll drop Credence off and then go have a look at the records room where you’ll be helping with data entry.”

“Sounds good,” Lennox responded. He stole another quick glance at Credence, looking deeply intrigued. “What, um… I mean, do you… If you ever need help carrying the pastries over, maybe I could stop by and help. Or….” He was blushing, for some reason. “You said Kowalski’s is down the street? I’ll… I’ll be sure to stop in some time.”

They were two doors away from Graves’ office now, and Credence could see that the man had his door closed and the shades drawn. He was always so considerate regarding Credence’s desire for privacy. “Absolutely,” he answered distractedly. “We’re open from seven to five, and nine to four on the weekends. You should try some of the kołaczki my manager makes. Or the savory doughnuts.”

“Thank you, I will,” Lennox breathed, his cheeks still a bit pink. Was it from the walking?

“Oh, boy,” Fontaine said quietly, shaking her head in fond exasperation. “Credence…”

“Huh?” He looked at her in confusion as she made some sort of significant gesture with her hands. But he was distracted by Graves’ office opening, his boyfriend leaning casually against the doorframe in his crisp shirt and tie, his suspenders pulled taut over his well-built shoulders.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Fontaine muttered.

“Hi,” Credence sighed dreamily, drifting closer, pulled toward him like a magnet.

Graves’ expression was serious, but his eyes softened and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile when he saw Credence. “Hello, sweetheart,” he said, his voice wonderfully rich and silky.

“Um. Afternoon, Boss,” Fontaine said quickly. “We’re just taking a tour of the offices. Bumped into Credence on the way. You remember Lennox, our new intern? From the interview?” 

Graves nodded smoothly. “Welcome to MACUSA,” he said crisply. “I trust you’ll be settled in soon and ready to get started.”

“Absolutely, sir,” Lennox replied, his eyes very wide.

“You’ll be helping Mr. Graves and his team with filing and a bit of coding, whenever they’ve got a big project to do,” Fontaine explained. Graves raised his eyebrows. “But we can get into that later!” she said hurriedly, clearing her throat. “Why don’t we, uh… head on to the records room. You two have a nice lunch, now.”

Graves slid his hand comfortably around Credence’s waist, dark eyes inscrutable. Lennox was looking a little pale. “We will, thank you,” Graves said evenly. “Enjoy the rest of the tour.”

With that, he gently tugged Credence with him into the office, letting the door swing closed with a click. There was the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and Lennox’s half-distinguishable voice.

“So he’s…”

“Yep,” replied Fontaine. “ _Very_ taken. And if you see a cute redhead wandering in here, best not to...”

But then Graves was kissing him, and Credence didn’t spare the voices in the hall another thought. Nothing mattered but the wonderful feeling of Graves’ soft lips, the hot press of his body as he gathered Credence closer.

“Baby,” the man rumbled against his mouth in between gentle nipping kisses, one big hand cupping Credence’s face. “It’s good to see you.”

Credence set the sandwiches on the desk and snuggled happily into his embrace, smoothing a palm over his boyfriend’s broad chest and curling his fingers in the sleek leather strap of his suspender. “You too,” he murmured, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m sorry about your presentation.”

“Mmm,” Graves sighed, running his hands up and down Credence’s back. “It was kind of a shitshow, that’s for sure. But it’s alright. We’ve just got to keep trying.” They kissed deeply, Credence moaning around the slick heat of Graves’ tongue. 

“And anyway,” the man went on, when they pulled apart to breathe, “it’s hard to feel angry when my day just got about a hundred times better.” Graves grinned playfully, and then suddenly he was scooping Credence up with strong arms wrapped under his thighs, depositing him to sit breathless and giggling on the gleaming surface of the desk.

“Oh!” Credence gasped, as Graves slid in between his knees and pressed hot kisses against the delicate skin of his throat. “Well, I’m glad I could… help cheer you… up… _mm!_ ” The man’s hands were creeping up his legs, thumbs running lightly along his sensitive inner thighs, and Credence squirmed. “That tickles,” he laughed.

“Does it?” Graves asked faux-innocently, bending to kiss Credence’s smiling mouth even as his questing fingers probed mischievously up Credence’s sides, making him twitch and shake with laughter. “What about that?”

Credence playfully fended him off, batting his hand away when it tried to sneak in for an attack on his highly-ticklish stomach. “You know it does, you scoundrel. Is this how you repay me for bringing you lunch?”

“Ooh, a scoundrel,” Graves purred, dragging his lips across Credence’s cheek to bite gently at his pierced ear. “Is that what I am?” His breath was hot against Credence’s neck, fingertips skating over his lower belly while Credence squeaked. The man pressed a feather-light kiss right behind Credence’s ear, making him shiver quietly. “But how can I help myself? You are _so fucking delicious_ in this outfit.”

“But the sandwiches are getting cold,” he giggled, tugging on Graves’ hair.

“Alright, fine,” the man purred. “I’ll stop. For now.” He placed a lingering slow kiss on Credence’s cheek. “Sweetheart, did you bring turkey and swiss?”

“Of course I did,” Credence replied smugly. “Freshly melted. Just the way you like it.”

“Mmm,” Graves said silkily, still making no move toward the food, coaxing Credence’s mouth open for one last languorous snog. When they finally broke apart, Credence was panting, his perfectly ironed slacks feeling a little bit tight, and Graves was smirking in satisfaction. “C’mere.”

He maneuvered them over to the small couch in the corner of the office, where they could sit cuddled together as they ate, enjoying the warm sandwiches and the slide of Credence’s ankle against Graves’ shin.

 _Baby, we miss you,_ Credence texted Newt, once their lunch had been devoured. _Hope you’re having a good massage session._ Graves pressed closer to read over his shoulder, brushing smooth lips over his cheek. _G sends kisses_. He could feel the man smile against his skin.

“What do you have going on this afternoon?” Graves asked quietly. He slid his arm along the back of the couch, fingers toying with the soft wisps of hair escaping Credence’s bun at the nape of his neck. “Baking anything new this week?”

Credence grinned, tossing the remains of the paper sandwich-wrapper into the trash can and snuggling into Graves’ side. “Mm hm,” he breathed happily, laying his head on the man’s shoulder. “I was sketching this morning. Jacob and Queenie are coming by at one, so that we can develop some new designs.”

“Well,” Graves murmured, stroking his fingers over the smooth dark hair at Credence’s temple. “That’s sure to produce something incredible. Three highly creative minds working together.” Credence beamed shyly into the collar of his boyfriend’s shirt, tugging affectionately on the man’s tie. “I can’t wait to taste whatever you come up with,” Graves added, pressing a kiss against Credence’s forehead.

Queenie had started working at the bakery with Jacob about a month ago, part-time. Now that her costuming work was really picking up, she was planning to quit the café so that she’d have more time to spend sewing in her studio and baking with Jacob. The two of them were like a fairytale romance come to life, effortlessly happy in each other’s company, in harmony with each other’s feelings, supportive of one another’s hopes and dreams.

It was beautiful to watch. 

Speaking of beautiful… “Newt’s gonna bike to the restaurant tonight, meet us there,” Credence purred sleepily, while Graves liberated his hair from its bun with a tug on the elastic, dragging his fingertips over Credence’s scalp. “So, we should make room in the trunk for his bike. Move those water bottles and dog blankets over to the side and fold down one of the back seats.” He nuzzled into Graves’ neck, which smelled enticingly of his aftershave and a hint of Newt’s shampoo.

“Sounds like a plan,” Graves breathed, as Credence lifted his head. Then they were kissing, soft and slow, while the man’s strong fingers worked their way blissfully through his hair, still slightly damp from the shower that morning. The office was filled with the faint scent of eucalyptus and mint, and Credence was suffused with wonderful feeling of peace.

Of course, they eventually did have to get back to work.

When an hour had rolled past, Credence reluctantly disentangled himself and left Graves with one last lingering snog, making his way dreamily down the hall to the elevator, Lennox and Jessica subtly staring at his loosened hair and kiss-swollen lips where they stood talking with Abernathy outside the records room. Credence hid a smile, re-doing his bun, and quietly ducked through the elevator doors.

The afternoon brainstorm session with Jacob and Queenie slipped by quickly, as creative projects often did when the ideas were flowing fast, all three of them swept up in the excitement of planning. Jacob loved the platypus idea, and Queenie thought it might be nice to do a koala too, flavored with earl grey tea and vanilla bean.

“It could be an Australian themed set! Maybe a dingo,” Jacob added. “I’m thinking savory. Honey mustard, with tarragon.”

“Ooh, and fudge mocha Tasmanian devils!” Queenie enthused. 

“And red curry kangaroos,” Credence put in breathlessly.

Needless to say, by the end of the afternoon they had a lengthy list of possibilities, Queenie had a smear of honey on her cheek which Jacob was tenderly wiping off for her, and Credence was smiling ear to ear.

They recounted their ideas to Andrei amidst much excited chatter while Credence helped the new employees shut down the registers and close the shop. He swung the cash bags into the safe with practiced ease and then fetched his jacket from its hook in the back, listening with half an ear to Andrei exclaiming over the flavors Jacob was describing.

“Caramel!” he suddenly boomed from the other room. “Caramel apple tree frogs!”

Credence chuckled, draping his coat over his arm and rejoining the group out front. The early evening was still warm when they all stepped outside, but the long shadows sinking over the sidewalk held a hint of the cool night to come. The lowering sun glinted off of Graves’ car, painting the crisp white of his shirt with fingers of gold where he stood leaning against the hood, his sleeves rolled up and the buttons of his collar undone.

He looked relaxed and casual and so, so handsome, and Credence couldn’t resist skipping over to him to kiss his cheek, tangling their fingers together.

“You all have fun at the show,” Andrei was saying. “I wasn’t sure what to make of it. So much singing! But Tori liked it.” He winked at Queenie. “And the costumes were the best I’ve ever seen.”

He and Tori had made use of the free tickets last week, with Tina and Sera, and Juliet and Kingsley, while Credence babysat Zoey. They had made a pillow fort in the living room and pretended to be camping in the jungle, which had successfully distracted her from being jealous that she didn’t get to go see the show too.

“Oh, you flatterer,” Queenie giggled. “Thanks for going, even if musicals aren’t your thing. I think the next production this season is going to be The Count of Monte Cristo. Lots of sword fighting.”

“Ah!” Andrei grinned. “That sounds more like it.”

They parted ways after a few moments more, Andrei heading home and Queenie and Jacob sliding into their own car to head to the restaurant. Credence sat quietly in the sun-warm interior of the Prius, watching contentedly as Graves’ capable hands shifted them into drive and guided them through the city.

“What’s the show tonight again?” Graves murmured. “Oliver?”

“Mm hm,” Credence breathed. “Tina said it was good. Nice music, fun to watch. But… surprisingly dark for a story about kids. She thought was good Juliet decided not to bring Zoey.”

Actually, she had also been a little upset by it. She’d warned him about a couple scenes in particular, her brow furrowed and her eyes serious. “It just… it was a little too on the nose,” she had explained. “Watching that little actor cry and wish he had his dead mother back again. It was… I just felt a bit raw after.” She’d squeezed his hand, then smiled. “But the cast was very talented, and the show was beautifully done. I think you’ll have a good time. Just wanted to give you a warning that the story is bleak for a while, but it does have a happy end.” 

Kind of like Credence’s story, actually.

They were crawling through the busy rush of evening traffic, Graves’ hand resting idly on Credence’s knee as they waited at a red light, both of them looking out for a place to park as they neared the restaurant. They got lucky, sliding up to the curb just as someone else was leaving, and Credence watched fondly as Graves made his customary impeccable parking job, six inches from the edge.

 _Hi baby_ – Credence texted Newt, _we’re parked on 7th, just south of Blanchard._

They didn’t have to wait long. Credence hopped out and folded the back seat down while Graves shifted the miscellaneous dog supplies and spare towels they had folded in the trunk, and a moment later there was the chime of a bell behind them and Newt was pulling up on his bike.

“You’re so thoughtful, darlings,” he said, smiling, swinging one long leg over the seat and then lifting the frame easily to slide the bike into the car. “Hello,” he murmured, more quietly, taking off his helmet and melting into Graves, who cupped his face and kissed him softly.

“Sweetheart, how was your volunteer shift?” the man asked, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Credence shut the trunk and slid his hand into Newt’s, smiling as the three of them made their way to the restaurant. “It was alright,” Newt was answering. “Not much to report. Oh! That puppy I was telling you about got adopted. Her new owners seem nice. And I’ve got the refill for Muriel’s allergy meds in my bag.”

Graves pressed a kiss against Newt’s temple. “Thank you.”

“Of course, darling.” Newt was smiling, bright like sunshine, his eyes crinkling and his arm swinging Credence’s hand.

The restaurant was one that Jacob had picked, an Indian place with a creative menu and lots of different flavors of naan. He apparently had eaten there several times and gotten to know the chef, and now, of course, they were great friends. Credence grinned. It seemed like everyone Jacob met became his friend.

They entered the restaurant and slid into the warm interior of a booth, an overhead fan swirling the oppressive heat out the open window and circulating a tickle of cool night air. Credence watched Jacob and Queenie appear outside, holding hands, making their way up the sidewalk, his mouth stretching into a helpless beaming smile as Zoey’s voice unexpectedly popped into his head.

“Is Uncle Jacob gonna marry Aunt Queenie?” she had asked last week, blinking sleepily up at him from underneath the fringe of their jungle canopy where they lay side by side.

“I don’t know, Zoey,” he had replied, but the question had set his heart beating faster. “Maybe some day. But that’s something they have to decide for themselves that they’re ready for.”

“Why?” she’d asked immediately. “I wanna get married as soon as I’m a grown up. I get to wear a nice dress and have cake and everybody brings presents.”

He’d been unable to hold in his laugh. “Oh really?” he huffed, amused. “I suppose that’s true, Zo, if you decide you want to do it that way. It’s a fun tradition. But when you get older you might feel differently. Marriage is a complicated thing, and it isn’t for everyone. Plus, you have to find someone you love first, someone truly special who you want to be with forever. That can be the hardest part.”

She scrunched up her small nose. “I don’t think it’s hard,” she said. “I already found one.” She yawned, pillowing her head on his chest. 

“You have?” Credence asked, fascinated.

“Of course,” she mumbled drowsily. “When I’m a grown up, I will get married to you, and then we can live in the real jungle and eat pancakes for breakfast every day.”

Oh. Credence stared up at the blanket ceiling, trying not to giggle. “Zoey…” he’d said carefully, stroking her hair. 

“And then Mommy and Daddy will come visit us, and we can introduce them to our pet tigers.” Her voice was getting more and more dreamy, her small form relaxing into his side. “We’ll have two tigers. And a leopard. And lots of regular cats too. And we’ll get to name them all different things, and… make our house really big so that they all fit. You can build the house ‘cause you’re tall, and I can tell you how big to make it,” she mumbled.

Credence smiled softly. “Oh, I see. I have to do all the work, huh?”

But then she was asleep, her breaths slow and even, sprawled adorably across the pillows they’d spread out on the floor and drooling slightly on Credence’s tee shirt. 

The funniest part was that Graves had actually looked a little bit jealous when Credence had told him about it later, though it was unclear whether that was because he wanted Zoey’s innocent admiration too, or because he didn’t like the idea of anyone else thinking about marrying Credence. Whatever the reason, the sulky little frown he’d been wearing had been so cute that it made Credence a bit weak in the knees. He’d pushed the man down into a chair, grinning impishly as he sank into his lap, and by the time Newt got home and eagerly joined them Graves certainly had nothing more to frown about.

Smiling at the recollection, Credence looked on as Newt stroked the dark hair back from Graves’ face, pressing a kiss to the strands of silver at his temple, his thigh pressed warmly against Credence’s under the table. 

The food, when it arrived, was unsurprisingly excellent, and the meal passed in a blur of happy conversation. Credence watched Jacob’s eyes glow, locked on Queenie’s face as she described the process of costuming all the actors in the production, the hours spent hunting through thrift stores and tailoring pieces to fit. Then the conversation turned to pastries, and all the new animal ideas they’d come up with that afternoon, and Newt and Graves wasted no time in confirming that the flavors they were planning sounded very promising.

“I look forward to trying all of them,” Graves said. “You know me, I like anything with chocolate. Those Tasmanian devils sound amazing. And Sera will be sure to enjoy the curry kangaroos.”

When they all piled out of the restaurant once more, full and content, Credence felt Newt’s arm slide around his waist. “And your brainstorm session started with a platypus, huh?” His breath was warm and ticklish against Credence’s ear, a smile in his voice. “That sketch you sent me was adorable. I wonder where your inspiration came from,” he joked.

“Mmm,” Credence breathed, beaming, twining their fingers together. “It’s a mystery,” he said playfully. Newt pressed a kiss against his hair.

The theater wasn’t far, just a couple blocks south, so the five of them made the trip on foot, Credence happily snuggled into Newt’s side while Queenie told them more about the rehearsal process. Her free seats were toward the back of the audience, but the space was small and so they had no trouble seeing the stage.

“Darling,” murmured Newt, as they settled in to their row, the orchestra warming up in their pit at the base of the stage. “Have you seen Oliver before?”

Credence shook his head. Newt, of course, probably knew several of the songs by heart. He was a big fan of musicals, and liked to sing them around the house.

“You know, there’s… er, there are some upsetting parts,” the man whispered, under the chatter of the crowd. “Just… a few scenes.”

“I know,” Credence replied, sending him a grateful smile. “Tina told me. But thanks for the warning.”

And then the lights were going down and the show was starting, and Credence was transported into the story. He had to blink rapidly a few times to shake himself back into reality, so drawn into the bright world of music and dancing and detail. The costumes truly were fantastic; he would’ve though so even if he hadn’t known they were Queenie’s work.

Not to mention, the little actor they had playing Oliver was quite the talent. Credence watched, spellbound, as he wandered alone onstage, abandoned by his caretakers, locked in a dirty basement while he innocently dreamt of someone kind who would take him away from all his troubles. 

_Where is love?_ he sang, looking lost and forlorn, big dark eyes in a pale face. His clothes were ragged, his small hands tangled in the sleeves of his ill-fitting coat. The boy looked so tiny up there, pinned by the spotlight, cold and alone. An orphan in a big world with very few sources of kindness.

_Will I ever know the sweet hello that’s meant for only me?_

Oh. Credence’s throat felt a bit tight, his eyes hot. He hadn’t truly thought it would be this… this…

_Must I travel far and wide 'till I am beside the someone who I can mean something to?_

There was a suspicious sniffle from someone in the row behind him, and Credence found that his vision was blurring. It was a gentle sort of grief, cleansing and pure. The song pierced him right in the rawest place of his heart, that old aching feeling left over from years of feeling unwanted, unloved. Newt quietly reached over and took his hand, twining their fingers together. A few lines later, Graves’ warm palm covered their joined hands from Newt’s other side.

_Where is love?_  
_Every night I kneel and pray: Let tomorrow be the day_  
_When I see the face of someone who I can mean something to_  
_Where... Where is love?_

Credence’s cheeks were wet, but his heart was warm, swallowing past the lump in his throat. Newt squeezed his hand. Where was love? Love was right here.

The story went on in a haze of singing and dancing while Credence took slow deep breaths, and by the time they’d gotten to intermission he was mostly composed again.

It was surreal to think back on his old life, now, with all the joy he had found. These days the past felt more and more like a bad dream, sinking deeper into a distant forgotten fog. But maybe some scars never healed over.

The second act was full of catchy music and fun choreography, but it also contained the heart-wrenching horror of watching Nancy’s character falling deeper into the grim jaws of domestic abuse, unable to find the strength to rescue herself. Tina had warned him about this, but he still flinched at every scene when Bill appeared, his menacing aggression toward her made all the more distressing by the fact that the young actress looked quite a lot like Chastity.

The agonizing conclusion of her story landed painful and heavy, even as Oliver’s character finally found happiness, and as the audience clapped and cheered Credence didn’t really know what to feel. It was a powerful story, drenched in darkness but lit by a trickle of hope. Suffering was everywhere, and sometimes it swallowed people up. But there was compassion and goodness out there, hiding in unlikely places.

“Wow,” Queenie said softly as they made their way out to the lobby, coats in hand. “I had forgotten how upsetting parts of that story were.” She glanced carefully at Credence, her eyes a bit worried. “I was mostly backstage during rehearsal, corralling the kids and trying to keep them from squirming while I fit them for their costumes. But seeing it now, like that… well, it felt so real.”

“It sure did,” Jacob said solemnly. “I suppose that’s a credit to the acting. It’s complex stuff.”

Credence was pressed into Newt’s side, clinging to him a little, their hands still entwined, and Graves’ palm was resting on Credence’s back.

“The costumes were impeccable, Queenie,” Graves remarked, the wonderful low rumble of his voice soothing Credence further. “That was a big cast, so many things to keep track of. You must have had your hands full.”

“Oh, I sure did,” she replied, a small smile chasing away the shadows lingering around her eyes. “But the kids were amazing. So sweet, all of them.” She sighed. “I just love being around kids, it makes everything brighter.”

Jacob was beaming, watching her, and somehow Credence’s remaining melancholy was chased away completely.

They made their way through the crowded lobby and squeezed out the doors, shivering in the night air after the tightly-packed warmth of the theater. It was a beautiful evening, clear and starry, the moon just starting to rise.

“We’ll see you this weekend, Bambi,” Queenie murmured, pulling him aside before the five of them parted ways to go find their separate cars. “We’re looking forward to having you over for lunch. I’m making cholent, and Jake has a dessert he’s insisting on keeping as a surprise. He’s been working on tweaking the recipe all week.” She smiled fondly, rising on her tiptoes to kiss Credence’s cheek.

He surprised her by sweeping her into a tight hug. “I can’t wait,” he breathed, face buried in her neck.

She giggled, stroking his back with gentle hands. “And don’t even think about doing the dishes. You’re our guest. I want no attempts to help out.”

“Fine,” he sighed, pretending to be annoyed. “I’ll just have to lay around and eat the food you’ve made. That’s a real hardship, you know.”

She laughed, tweaking his nose. “Too bad,” she giggled. “My apartment, my rules.”

He hugged Jacob next, still grinning, and then the two of them disappeared into the night, leaving Credence to slide into the car with Graves. Newt followed, squeezing into the backseat next to his bike, and the drive passed in a quiet whoosh of street lights.

The house looked warm and welcoming when they pulled up outside, the living room lamp Newt had left on casting a cheery yellow glow onto the front porch, illuminating the silhouettes of several furry heads peeking out the window. They piled out of the car, Credence eagerly climbing up the steps to unlock the door and wading into the center of the happy wagging cluster of dogs.

“Hello, hello,” he cooed, petting Frank’s ears and scooping Bandit up into his arms. The dog immediately tried to lick Credence’s silver earrings. “Oh, you silly,” he laughed. “What is it with you and shiny things, huh?” He carefully kept the dogs away from the door while Newt came in, bike slung over his shoulder, Graves carrying his bag for him. Pickett stared patiently up at Credence with big dark eyes, his little tail wagging, until he set Bandit down and gave the small dog a snuggle as well. “Hello, darling.” All that was missing was a face lick from…. “Oh, yes,” Credence grimaced, laughing. “Thank you Dougal.” He wiped the slobber off his cheek, wandering over to the couch where the cats sat watching side by side, aloof, pretending not to care that their people were home. “And you too, ladies,” he murmured, scratching their ears, Pickett still nestled comfortably in one arm.

“I missed you all,” he whispered, kissing Pickett on the head.

Once Newt and Graves had been sufficiently sniffed and licked as well, they left the dogs with a couple late-night snacks and some fresh water. They brushed their teeth side by side in the bathroom, Newt gently teasing Graves about all his face creams and then kissing him playfully on the nose for good measure. Credence rolled his shoulders, sighing, and undid his bun, happily following the tug of Newt’s hand as he was pulled into the bedroom.

“Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?” Graves murmured from where he was hanging up his suit in the closet, looking edible in just a pair of boxer briefs. “I can imagine that story might’ve brought some things back up.”

Newt was gently rubbing Credence’s shoulders, his hands trailing down his chest to unbutton his shirt. “Actually,” Credence breathed, “I think I’m good. It was… a worthwhile reminder.”

“Oh?” Newt said softly, helping him ease his shirt off, his own clothes disappearing one by one.

“The past is always there. I can’t erase it. But it’s okay, because it helps remind me how lucky I am now,” Credence said slowly. “Not everybody in the world gets a happy ending like this, opportunities like I’ve got. I mean… I can’t believe it, really, just how many things I have to be thankful for.”

Graves wandered over to kiss him, cupping his face in his big hands. “Baby,” he said fervently, “you’re such a thoughtful, kind, beautiful person. We’ve got a lot to be thankful for too. Most of all, the fact that we get to have you.”

Newt smiled, climbing onto the bed now, clad in nothing but his skin. “Absolutely,” he added, sitting back and snuggling into the pillows, and Credence felt a burning heat spark in his chest. “You’re so special, love.”

Graves and Credence both watched the man wriggle a little, innocently provocative, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he found a comfortable position seated at the head of the bed. His legs splayed open, creamy skin dotted with freckles, his cock pink and soft against his thigh. 

And just like that, Credence had no more room in his mind for melancholy thoughts.

“Mmh,” Credence breathed, a sigh with the edge of a whimper, sliding his palm over Graves’ chest in a silent question. The man raised his eyebrows, the beginnings of a smirk playing around his mouth.

Credence finished stripping naked in record time. 

He ended up pouncing on Newt and snogging him silly for a while, before gently spreading his legs open wider so that he could kneel in the vee of his thighs to kiss his beautiful prick and coax it into hardness, suckling it into the welcoming heat of his mouth. “Oh, sweetheart,” Newt said, his voice raw with pleasure, his hips shifting and his back arching luxuriously. The sounds he made were brain-meltingly arousing, his choked moans trailing off into deep sighs as Credence sucked worshipfully on the head of his dick while his hand massaged up the shaft, soft red pubes tickling his wrist.

There were warm lips on his shoulder, trailing down his spine, then the click of a bottle cap behind him. Credence let out a mewling whimper at the sensation of two fingers sliding into his cleft, wet with lube, firm and careful as they massaged around his hole, pressing their way one at a time into his ass. The familiar stretch of Graves’ wide fingers was accompanied by Newt’s nails scratching over his scalp, tangling in his hair, and the sensation of Graves’ free hand rubbing soothingly over his back. Credence moaned, blissful, and the vibration made Newt’s hips twitch, the muscles in his belly clenching.

“That feel good?” Graves’ voice was a rough purr, his words sending a jolt of molten heat straight to Credence’s neglected cock, swelling between his legs. “You like sucking his dick while I play with your ass, sweet boy?” 

Credence let out another little whining moan, letting Newt’s prick slide in deeper until the tip hit the back of his throat, which prompted a full-body shudder from the man under him, his back arching beautifully, and Credence groaned once more. It was like a circuit of pleasure, self-feeding and unending. The fingers playing with his ass grew more focused, delving in to find that spot that made him see stars, and Credence keened, the vibrations of his voice surrounding Newt’s prick. Credence slid a hand over Newt’s velvety inner thigh, his fingers creeping in to rub over his perineum and graze against his asshole, drawing light ticklish circles around the clenching pucker.

“ _OH!_ Credence, darling, ohhh… fuck…” Newt had always been quite sensitive.

Credence grinned around his mouthful of cock, taking a deep breath before swallowing it down as deep as he could. He wriggled his fingers, just barely scraping Newt’s fluttering hole with his nails, feather-light over his sensitive skin. 

And then the man was coming, bucking and arching helplessly, letting out a satisfying throaty moan, salty semen bursting across Credence’s tongue. Graves pressed his fingers in deeper, and Credence swallowed, whimpering, suckling and lapping at Newt’s softening prick until the man pulled him off with a gentle hand fisted in his hair.

Dazed, his lips glossy and swollen, Credence allowed himself to be guided up by his hair into a deep kiss, relishing the tingle of pressure on his scalp, panting as Newt licked into his mouth. He spread his knees slightly in invitation, pressing back into the fingers fucking into his body. 

“You want more, baby?” Graves purred, his voice deliciously silky and low.

In answer, Credence whimpered against Newt’s lips, arching his spine, letting his knees slide even further apart. He braced himself on Newt’s shoulders while the man re-settled himself against the headboard, flushed and satisfied, tenderly stroking Credence’s face. “Mmh,” he moaned, carefully resisting the urge to touch his cock, relishing the anticipation, the swollen ache, the glide of Newt’s gentle fingers over his neck. “Please,” he said, slightly raspy.

Graves groaned, crawling up onto the bed to blanket him with his body, the heat of his front steaming against the bare skin of Credence’s back. He turned his head to meet the man’s mouth with his, gasping as the fingers behind him were withdrawn and replaced by the familiar persistent stretch of the blunt head of his cock. Graves swallowed his whimpers as he slid inexorably inside, and the pressure and intensity were all he could think about for a few seconds, his panting breaths moist and loud while Newt stroked his hair. Graves’ hands rubbed soothingly down his sides and over his belly, cupping his balls as he pressed soft kisses into the sensitive thin skin of Credence’s throat.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” the man rumbled. “Look at you, ass spread open, not even touching your pretty cock. Were you leaving that for me?” he asked, palming Credence’s heavy prick and running his thumb over the sticky head, dripping clear fluid onto the sheets. “Ohhh, fuck, angel, you’re so wet,” he breathed against Credence’s ear, deliciously dirty. “Sweetness,” he growled, “did sucking Newt get you hot? Make you desperate? You love his cock so much, don’t you. You’d sit at his feet and beg him to put it in your mouth, wouldn’t you, sweet hungry little thing?”

Credence mewled, toes curling. Graves always knew exactly what to say to make him squirm helplessly with pleasure. His body was humming, strung tight, poised on the edge of ecstasy and desperate for it. “Yes,” he whined.

“That’s right,” Graves said silkily. “You would, if he wanted you to.” He was thrusting slowly now, beginning to grind his hips against Credence’s ass, his cock pressing in deep and thick. “But I think he’s much too in love with your mouth to ever deny you,” he whispered. “Much too in love with _you_.”

Newt’s cheeks were flushed pink, his lips bitten red as he watched Credence with glowing eyes, cupping his cheek. “You’re right about that,” he breathed. “Oh, darling, I could never deny you anything.”

Credence cried out, nuzzling into Newt’s hand, as Graves snapped his hips a little more roughly.

“Oh, baby, that’s so hot,” Newt whispered. “Watching him fuck you.”

Credence gasped, body wound tight with need. “Nnnn…” he whined. “I want…”

“You want it harder, angel?” Graves teased. And then, more serious, “Tell me when you’re ready, there’s no rush. Tell me if it’s too much.” Even now, after almost a year of learning each other’s bodies and preferences, Graves always made sure he was comfortable.

“Yes, harder,” Credence breathed. And then, mischievously, “Now. Come on, fuck me.”

Graves let out a strangled groan and snapped his hips, chuckling breathlessly. “Still incredibly hot to hear you swear like that, baby. I don’t know what it is, maybe how sweet and innocent you sound when you say the word fuck. Just… so… fucking… delectable…” he panted, accompanying each word with a staccato thrust of his hips. Credence switched his grip to the bedposts behind Newt’s shoulders, holding on tight and moaning happily, pleasure bursting glittery and hot in the pit of his stomach as Graves took hold of his hips and began to speed up, plowing him hard and fast.

Then there was little to be heard but his blissful cries of “Ohhh…. Oh!... Graves…. Just like that. Mmm… Ah! Ahhhh… Oh, fuck! Yes, more, more…” while the man held his hips in place and fucked his brains out, unerringly finding the best angle to ensure his cock dragged against Credence’s prostate with each powerful thrust. Newt’s hand slid down to fondle his balls, and Credence whimpered, blinking hazily, his face flushed and his mouth gasping.

Tenderly, Newt stroked his mussed hair out of his face, the gentleness of his touch a humorously stark contrast to the rough sex he was currently witnessing. “Does that feel good, pet?” he murmured playfully over the slap of Graves’ balls against Credence’s skin. “His prick is so nice, isn’t it? Feel good in your arse?”

Credence’s only answer was a guttural drawn out “Yesssss.”

“Uh huh,” Newt coaxed. “You like how he fucks you? Holds you tight and fills you up with his gorgeous cock until you nearly can’t breathe?”

He couldn’t help the anguished, desperate cry that wrenched itself from his throat at that. His dick was hard and needy, set throbbing by the tone of Newt’s voice and the delicious, affectionate obscenities he was murmuring.

“Oh, baby, I know. It’s so good, isn’t it,” Newt soothed, his fingers encircling the head of Credence’s penis so that each time Graves thrust him forward he slid into Newt’s cupped hand. The pressure was light and teasing, not nearly enough. “And you are taking him so well.”

Graves moaned his assent from behind Credence, and he felt the man’s thumbs pull his ass cheeks open, exposing the tight join of their bodies, the quivering bright pleasure of his stretched open rim clenched around the girth of his penis. “So fucking perfect,” Graves said roughly, hungrily, his voice sounding wrecked.

“Our perfect boy,” Newt agreed. “He does love a nice hard fuck. Loves to be stuffed full of your prick, gorgeous. Even better when you come inside him, and you don’t even touch his needy cock at all. He loves it when you leave him _throbbing_.”

Credence wailed as Graves picked up the pace, the man’s hips stuttering and the loud slick sound of penetration filling the room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Graves was swearing, and then Credence could feel him come, hot and wet, deep inside his body. Graves shivered, slumping, his face buried in Credence’s neck and his breath steaming against his skin.

“Very nice,” Newt murmured softly, bending forward to kiss Graves’ cheek. “Does that mean I get to finish him off?”

They had, after a lot of enthusiastic experimentation, discovered that Credence liked best to be brought to climax after a little bit of drawn-out denial. Newt and Graves had endeavored with hungry dedication to fulfill his shy requests, and to find all the things that ultimately made him dissolve into a puddle of pleasure. They now had a plethora of ways to get him off harder than he’d ever come before, usually involving some combination of fucking, hair pulling, a vibrating butt plug, a hand on his balls and the occasional teasing suckle on the head of his prick. And if Newt or Graves was talking dirty to him at the same time, he had been known to lose it completely. He’d never known he could be so _loud_.

The helpless whimpers had already started, rapid and frantic, as Newt coated the vibrator in lube, grinning down at Credence where he lay out on his back, prick twitching and drooling on his belly while he obediently tucked his knees behind his elbows and spread himself open. They had been working on this stretch for a while, once Credence admitted how hot he found it, to be twisted like a pretzel in a way that surrendered control, exposed and helpless even though he could choose to unfold himself at any time.

Graves, kneeling near his head, stroked his hair tenderly. “Baby,” he rumbled, “you make such hot little sounds. Let us hear how desperate you are for it, sweetheart. You want that in your ass? Does it feel empty without my cock?”

“Yes, please! Please…” he cried, arching his back and spreading his thighs wider, ass clenching.

“Good boy,” Newt praised. “Hold still now, love.” The thick, glistening plug was ready in his hand, nudging against the pink, open gape of Credence’s hole before pressing steadily in, the bulbous tip pressing right against his prostate.

“Ohhhh…” he moaned, head thrashing a little on the pillow.

“That’s it, sweet thing. Just relax.” The plug was thicker than Graves, just by a hair, and the extra stretch made him tremble slightly. When Newt took hold of the base and casually flicked the battery on, Credence keened, eyes screwed shut. Then the plug started to move, Newt deftly thrusting it in and out in a deep forceful glide as Graves bent to take Credence’s prick into his mouth, and he couldn’t hold back a blissful shriek in response to the overwhelming sensation.

“Oh, baby boy, we love it when you scream. That’s what we have our own house for, darling. Let it out.” Credence could hear the smile in Newt’s voice.

There were fingers fondling his balls, Newt’s lips against his inner thigh. Graves was suckling lightly on the wet head of his prick, lapping at the pre-come dribbling onto his belly, then kissing his way up to gently bite his nipples. 

“Yes, oh… nnnnnnnnh!” He let out a drawn-out whine when Newt rubbed his perineum at the same time that Graves pinched both his nipples, his ass clenching around the plug as it mercilessly pleasured his postate.

“Beautiful,” Newt murmured. “My darling, watching you in ecstasy is incredible. So lovely.”

Credence was sometimes still embarrassed by his own desire, by the loud noises he made while his mind floated on a tide of pleasure, but it was hard to feel any discomfiture when Graves and Newt told him over and over again how much they liked hearing him, how hot it was that he allowed himself to let go. And if they thought it was hot, and it felt good, then why was he even shaming himself in the first place?

“Ah–” He squirmed, loving the slow inevitable build of his orgasm, the way it pushed against his nerves like a lapping tide of pleasure, circling and receding, but always coming steadily closer. He liked to put it off for a while, just long enough that he could feel the delicious ache burning in his muscles, the clenching tremble of desire as it built slowly up from a spark to a blazing bonfire under his lovers’ tender ministrations. “Newt,” he whimpered. “Mmh.”

“What is it, pet?” the man replied softly, rolling his balls in one gentle palm while he dragged the nails of his other hand lightly up Credence’s inner thigh, over his helplessly ticklish belly. Credence let out a hoarse scream, his head falling back on the pillow. “You ready? You want me to let you come?” 

Credence panted, staring hazily up at the ceiling, while Graves pressed a kiss against the exposed column of his throat. “Nnnh,” he keened, trembling, lifting his head to look at the two of them, Graves dark-eyed and ravenous, Newt flushed and adoring. “Ah…” he panted. “I can’t… I want…”

“What, baby?” Graves purred against his ear, his thumbnails drawing little circles on Credence’s nipples. Newt was running a finger gently around the stretched rim of his asshole, the intensity of the sensation making it hard for him to focus. The plug vibrated exquisitely, pressed against him right where he was fluttering and sensitive and vulnerable.

“I… I want…” What he wanted, really, was for this to last forever, this throbbing bright pleasure on the edge of release. But, since his legs were shaking and his vision blurry, he would settle for an earth-shattering orgasm. “I want to come. Please, I need…” He mewled as Graves kissed his throat again, rolling his nipples carefully. “I need to come,” he rasped.

“Oh, darling, all you have to do is ask. You know we always want to give you what you need.” Newt’s voice was lovely and soothing, his composed tone a stark contrast to Credence’s raw uninhibited shriek as the vibrator was flicked onto a higher setting. “All we want is to take care of you, baby boy. Isn’t that right, Graves?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart,” Graves said silkily, his voice low and rich like spiced chocolate. “Baby, we want to give you everything you want. Make you scream with pleasure until your pretty cock spurts, all wet and sticky and satisfied. We want to _spoil_ you, little angel.”

Then there was a mouth on his cock, and Credence’s brain proceeded to melt, the world vibrating with the force of his heartbeat, the burn of climax lighting up like a struck match. Blearily, he realized that Newt was the one swallowing his prick down, one hand rolling his balls, since Graves was still whispering delicious filth into his ear.

“Want to see you quiver and come undone,” he said, a low hungry growl. “I want you to give Newt a hot creamy mouthful, so much that it runs down his chin. He’s got his pretty lips wrapped around you, baby, do you see?”

Blearily, Credence managed to lift his head for one desperate glance down between his legs. Newt was crouched there, long graceful fingers wrapped around the root of his cock while he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, looking up at Credence through the curly fringe of his hair with green eyes that burned with both adulation and lust.

That was it. That was all he needed to push him over the edge. Graves watched hungrily as Credence shattered, his back bowing and his face contorting in ecstasy as his head fell helplessly back against the pillow. He was on fire, pleasure flowing hot and molten through his entire body and erupting out of his dick in a deep pulse of satisfying heat. The vibrator buzzed against his prostate and Newt sucked firmly around him, the perfect wet pressure drawing out several shuddering aftershocks while the world slowly resolved itself again.

Eventually, at Credence’s insistent whimper, the vibrator was turned off and then tenderly eased out of his fluttering hole, Newt pressing one last soft kiss to his sated prick.

“Breathtaking,” Graves murmured, pressing lingering indulgent kisses all over Credence’s face, stroking his hair. “You are so beautiful.”

“Mmm,” Credence mewled softly. He usually got a little bit shy after an intense orgasm, feeling sleepy and overwhelmed, so his lovers knew not to expect him to say much right away. 

“Darling,” Newt whispered to Graves, “will you pass me the tissues?” It was true that they spoiled him; Credence lay there quietly, blinking, his heart still hammering, while Graves pet his hair and Newt cleaned the sweat and lube off of him, helping him stretch out his legs again after holding the same position for so long.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Graves purred, pulling Newt down onto the bed in between them so that Credence could nuzzle into his neck. Graves casually reached over and palmed Newt’s reawakened prick, lying there rock hard in its nest of soft red curls. “Getting him off always does make you horny again, doesn’t it?”

Newt sighed in pleasure, arching his back, as Graves slowly jacked his cock, hand still slippery with lube.

“Ohh…” he moaned, hips twitching, as Credence pressed sleepily closer and idly pinched one of his nipples. “Yes… Baby. Your pleasure is my pleasure. Oh, Graves, mmm… that’s nice…”

“Fuck, you are so hot,” Graves mumbled roughly.

“What about you, handsome?” Credence whispered, watching the incredible play of muscles in Graves’ forearm as he confidently sped up his strokes on Newt’s cock. “Can I?” The man’s cock was wet and swollen, half-hard again where it lay against his muscular thigh.

Graves’ eyes darkened. “Oh, angel,” he said lowly. “I could never say no to that.”

Smiling shyly, Credence crawled down the bed to press himself in between Graves’ legs, darting his tongue out for a kitten-lick against the scalding hot skin of the head followed by several open-mouthed kisses along the rapidly stiffening shaft.

“Mmh,” Graves groaned, his abs twitching, Newt’s cock throbbing in his fist. For a while the room was filled with wet sounds of pleasure, the slick drag of Credence’s tongue and the glide of Graves’ hand, along with Newt’s increasingly blissful whimpers.

“Oh… Ohhh…” Credence watched hungrily as Newt’s thighs quivered, his body tensing, heavy balls tight. He looked like he was getting close. Credence sucked Graves’ cock down, and drank in the sight of Newt’s flushed face, the sweat on his beautiful skin and the overwhelmed furrow of his brow. 

Graves, next to Newt, was panting, hair delectably mussed, his dark eyes flicking between the delicious picture of Newt in the throes of pleasure and the sight of Credence snuggled happily between his thighs, sucking blissfully on his cock and looking up at him from under his eyelashes.

“Oh _fuck._ ” Graves’ voice was a desperate growl, his hips bucking slightly. His hand sped up a bit more on Newt’s prick, and then the man was coming, arching beautifully, white spatters of semen painting the gorgeous freckled canvas of his chest and belly.

Credence moaned in appreciation, wriggling his tongue, watching Newt mewl and squirm through the aftershocks as Graves continued to stroke him, his green eyes hazy and his eyelashes fluttering. Graves himself looked like he was barely hanging on to his control, his pupils huge and dark and his mouth open and panting. His hips twitched again at the ticklish flick of Credence’s tongue against his frenulum, and then he was falling back on the pillows and letting go of Newt, his back arching helplessly as Credence swallowed him down as deep as he could go, stroking the rest of the shaft with his hand.

A few more enthusiastic wet sucks seemed to do it. Graves was crying out hoarsely, one hand tangling itself in Credence’s hair as his pelvis jerked and he ejaculated hot and messy into Credence’s throat. The satisfying salty musk of his release coupled with the hair-pulling was almost enough to make Credence hard all over again. Almost.

Newt, still panting, was propped up on one graceful elbow, his skin glowing pink and his eyes fixed on Graves’ face while Credence pulled his mouth off of his sated cock, swallowing thickly.

“Oh my God,” Graves gasped, his chest heaving. “You two are going to kill me. Death by pleasure. Fuck, every time I think this can’t get any hotter…” Grinning, Credence crawled up the bed to cuddle against his side, Newt wiping himself off and then lifting Graves’ muscular arm and draping it around himself on the other side. “I just… mmph. How did I get so lucky?” Graves asked, his voice sounding a little raw.

“Well,” Credence said slyly, kissing the man’s cheek and burrowing closer into the warm heat of his body. “According to the office gossip, you won us both over with your brooding scowls and your dark manly allure. Either that, or we have a kink for your firm authoritative manner.”

Graves’ brow furrowed incredulously. “My dark manly what now?”

“Your allure, darling,” Newt said playfully, resting his head comfortably on Graves’ shoulder and reaching across him to stroke his long fingers through Credence’s hair. “An irresistible aura of attractiveness.”

“Oh,” Graves said, sounding flummoxed and a bit flattered. “That’s what they’re saying at work, huh?” Credence smiled as one strong arm wrapped itself around him, tracing fingertips down the knobs of his spine. “And are they right about that?”

“No,” Credence breathed, kissing Graves’ handsome jaw, running his fingers over the man’s chest, his neck, his collarbone. “They don’t know the half of it.”

“Oh yeah?” Graves asked warmly, his voice vibrating through the cavern of his chest, humming against Credence’s cheek. Newt blinked drowsily at him, his green eyes adoring and heavy-lidded.

“Yeah,” he mumbled sleepily into the skin of Graves’ pectoral, dark hair tickling his cheek. “Your brooding scowl is sexy in its own way,” he whispered, “but it’s got nothing on your smile. I fell in love with you because you were gentle, not because you were firm.”

Warm lips pressed against his forehead. “I see.” He could hear the smile in the man’s voice.

“I mean, I like that you’re firm, too,” Credence joked, rubbing his hand over Graves’ hard chest and solid abdomen. “But it had far more to do with all the softer things you did, to show me how much I mattered. You both did.” His hand found Newt’s arm, tucked around Graves’ waist. “That’s why I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against the back of Newt’s hand.

Newt looked like he was mostly asleep, his eyes barely staying open. “You too, darlings,” he breathed, cheek scrunched adorably where his face was pressed against Graves’ shoulder. “I love you so much I can’t hold it in sometimes. You make me so happy.”

Graves shifted slightly to press a kiss against Newt’s nose. “Right back at you, sweetheart.” His broad palm rubbed soothingly up Credence’s spine, right over the scars, holding him close. “And you, angel. I love you, too.”

In fact, there was so much love in that bed that Credence could almost feel it like a physical presence, warm and exquisite and impossible to quantify. He smiled into Graves’ skin, his body wonderfully heavy and his mind lulled by the deep breaths ruffling against his hair.

The three of them drifted off to sleep together, all twisted up, Credence’s legs tangled with Graves’ and his fingers twined with Newt’s, enfolded in the gentle arms of slumber until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaah!!!! It's finally done. I kept cramming more ideas in and second-guessing myself trying to make the ending as emotionally satisfying as possible, but here it is at last! I know it is pretty sappy, but it seemed right to finish some adorable love declarations :) I'm not a hundred percent satisfied with the sorta abrupt change in tone from the post-show feelings into the sex, but oh well ;) Sometimes I've got to let some things go.
> 
> I can't quite believe how long this ended up being (both this epilogue and the entire fic). But I had so much fun writing it!! I'm hooked! I hope to come back with another fic at some point in the next couple of months :D The next one is going to have magic in it, that's for sure. As much as I loved writing in this AU, I can't resist delving into some witchcraft and wizardry now XD
> 
> Your kudos and comments keep me going. Thank you for everything.
> 
> Some notes:  
> \- You can assume that all three of our precious heroes have been tested for sexually transmitted infections before the super messy sex in this chapter. Just, you know, in case you were wondering ;) Also, those refractory periods may be slightly unrealistic. heh :P  
> \- Jelonek means baby deer in Polish  
> \- Couldn't resist a last little bit of jealous Graves. Yusss  
> \- It's been a while since I've seen Oliver all the way through, so let me know if I've described any of it inaccurately. I re-watched a youtube clip of 'Where is Love' from the film version so hopefully I've got the snippets of lyrics right... Ohmigosh that song will never not make me a little teary.


End file.
